


Scars

by sniperct



Series: Artifacts [3]
Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Game), tomb raider (2013 reboot)
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Femslash, Magical Artifacts, Plot First; Romance Third, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 59,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look at her, Shaw. You can see it. You can see Yamatai in her eyes. I told you. You never leave that island. It’s always with you. Always.”</p><p>Nothing ever goes according to plan as Lara and Sam get drawn into events that started with Lara's father and must end with her. The artifact Lara discovered in Costa Rica is only a piece of a larger puzzle. How does it tie into Yamatai and why is Sam so drawn to them?<br/> </p><p>  <i>This story is probably closer in rating to the source video game. A little more violent and darker than In This Together but not too much so. Mostly rated T with some M chapters.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Lara's Journal

**Entry: March 3rd**

_I haven't had nightmares lately. Maybe it's Sam's presence in my bed or the fact that we have a goal of sorts. I can't really explain it. If I dream, I don't really remember them. Just a feeling of being watched. Blue eyes with grey specs. I chalk that up to the skull. It's got an energy to it that seems to permeate everything around it. It makes me uneasy._

_I want to get out and explore. I need to know what this means, but I want to be prepared. There's so much to learn and I keep finding myself going around in circles. It's frustrating._

_And if I'm entirely honest with myself, I like the routine Sam and I have developed. I don't want to mess things up with her. This is all so very new and it feels fragile, but I know it's not. We already built a foundation through our years together. That doesn't make me any less terrified of it all._

_Some days I'd rather face down a hundred cultists than what's inside my heart._

**Entry: March 14th**

_I'm still not remembering all of my dreams, but I'm getting more and more detail out of them. Those eyes watching me. They don't scare me, or creep me out. They're … comfortable. They make me feel warm, because when I'm dreaming I'm always cold. The other night I woke up shivering._

_I feel like there's something there. Something important. If I can just latch onto it. If I can just remember. Dreams are supposed to be just dreams, but I can't believe that any more. Stranger things have happened._

**Entry: March 25th**

_We leave for Lima tomorrow. The last time we were in that country we stumbled into a series of ruins. While there, we encountered statues that moved and followed us. Sam distracted them with dancing of all things, but they didn't seem to be much of a threat. I'm not sure they were threatening us at all. I think they were warning us away._

_Based on my research I think I can find where we were. I'll need to charter a helicopter and I know Sam is looking forward to a day or two as a holiday before we go chopping through the rainforest. I won't tell her, I have a reputation as a wet blanket to maintain after all, but I wouldn't mind the sun a bit, myself._


	2. Welcome Back to Peru

We’ve been in such a hurry in the aftermath of our discoveries in Costa Rica, but even Lara has procrastinated a little once we got home. I think she enjoys the time we’re taking to just explore each other and our relationship. And research. The woman is a little research _whore_ , swear to god, and she’s determined to make sure we’re going absolutely where we want to be. Her gut keeps pointing back to Peru, and when both of our guts are on the same page, then it’s got to be Peru.

Despite that, we’ve settled into a routine. For the two years between Yamatai and Costa Rica, we’d desperately searched for some kind of normal in our lives. We didn’t quite succeed and the itch for adventure took us away a couple of times, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to return to the way things had been before.

But that was before we were going out. Before we both saw what was right in front of us and admitted that yeah, we are totally into each other. We even went on a date. And then another. And nothing like when I used to drag her clubbing. I still do, I mean. But these are _real_ dates. Couples stuff. Date night. I don’t want it to stop, and from the things Lara whispers into my ear, neither does she. Lara Croft, closet romantic.

God, that woman. She’s not always in the mood. Me, I’m ready at the drop of a hat or the tilt of a head or when she does this thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear. I’m always-on. But Lara has a switch. And I’ve learned a couple of ways to find it. But I flick it on and … God, that woman. I love her. I don’t think I tell her enough. No, I know I don’t tell her enough, but I’m afraid if I use the word too much it’ll lose it’s meaning and then I’ll lose her.

It’s silly and stupid, but she’s all I have. She’s my center, my anchor. And I’d be adrift in the ocean without a paddle without her. 

This one time, we went to the movies. I took her hand and she looked at me with so much uncertainty and worry that it broke my heart. It was one of the first times we’d held hands in public after we’d said we loved each other. It was different, but it wasn’t different. It scared her. I realized it scared her because it wasn’t different. For a second I had an anxiety attack. Like she’d turn back the hands on the clock and try to undo what we’d already done.

She didn’t. “We’re still ourselves,” she’d said, the fear disappearing from her face. I’m not stupid, but I still didn’t understand, until she put her arm around me. Everything had changed, except nothing had changed, and that was _awesome_.

Six months after our first date, I finally buy the plane tickets. She’d told me about some dreams she’d had, and I have been thinking that maybe it’s time to get out. She’s got cabin fever. I let Lara bitch and whine at me for picking first class, right up until we are seated and she is comfortable and enjoying the wi-fi. She’s just sitting there, earbuds in her ears and looking for all the world like she thought this is such a fantastic idea that she wishes she’d thought of it first. But she hasn’t, which is one of the (many) reasons she needs me.

“What is it, Sam?” 

I realize I’ve been staring at her, but I go with it and grin.”I’m waiting for your apology.”

“My apology for what?” The brunette has an adorably guilty look on her face.

“Your apology for throwing your little _tantrum_ , sweetie.” I put my nicest inflection into the words, and watch them hit their mark.

“That’s not fair, using that voice.” She slides down in her seat and starts to sulk. Now, she’ll deny she ever sulks, but she does, and it makes me want to do naughty things to her. But then Lara Croft is the queen of making me want to do naughty things to her. Twenty-four seven, even on holidays. Especially on holidays. Can you imagine Lara as Sexy Santa? I have.

“I know,” I sing, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. She flushes and looks around, but I take her hand and pull her over, kissing her on the lips. I’m not going to let her win another argument about public displays of affection. This isn’t public, not really, and the flight isn’t even full. It’s not like we’re going to go screw in the bathroom.

She’s melted a little against me by the time we come up for air, and I know that this is my chance. “If you want to make it up to me, there’s something. You just need to get up and go to the lady’s room.”

“I don’t need to go to the toilet, Sam, I went before we took off.”

Oh my god this woman is the smartest person I know and yet she can be _so oblivious_. So I just look at her. I look at her and smirk at her until the realization dawns in her eyes and her skin turns the color of scarlet. “S-Sam we _can’t_. Are you crazy? What if we get caught?”

If I’m not mistaken, there’s a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. I know for a fact she’s never shagged in the air. Me? Multiple flight member of the mile-high club. So a chance to initiate Lara into the club is one I want to take. She has to come to accept the idea and there’s only so much pushing I can do before she digs her heels in, so I settle for a hand on her leg and my breath in her ear. It worked back in a pub in London, so it can probably work here.

The thing about doing it in an airliner bathroom is that it’s awkward. It’s awkward and a little clumsy, but with the right person it’s a lot of fun. And I’m pretty flexible. So’s Lara, for that matter. All that climbing and exercising she does...between the two of us we could contort ourselves into all sorts of interesting positions. Thinking about those interesting positions just makes me more anxious so I try not to squirm.

The other thing about doing it in an airliner bathroom is that when you’re done and making your way back to your seat, almost everyone knows what you’ve been doing. Lara looks mortified by the time we sit back down, so I take her hand and nuzzle it with my cheek. Then I lean against her shoulder.

“Was it worth the embarrassment?”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” She lets out a little sigh, and I feel her cheek nuzzle the top of my head. “But yes, it was.”

I can’t help the surge of joy I feel at the sound of her voice right now. Lara always sounds so catlike and content after we shag. Like I’ve managed to fuck all the worries and weights out of her, at least for a little while. She turns her head and we look at each other.

Our foreheads touch, then we shift positions to get more comfortable against each other. We spend the rest of the flight with her reading and me playing Animal Crossing. At least that’s the plan, but I fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know, Lara is nudging me awake and my 3DS has been put away.

“You looked so sweet and innocent that I couldn’t disturb you,” she explains, sounding deceptively kind. “Since that’s such a rare occurrence, I thought it was a shame to waste it.

She makes a satisfied sound when I elbow her in the stomach. I wait until we’ve gotten off the plane and acquired our luggage before I elbow her back. We have quite a bit between us. Lara brought some equipment, and I have more than I probably need, but first of all I’m a master packer and second of all you never know when you’re going to need a sparkling silver minidress. 

Or a skimpy swimsuit with which to drive certain archaeologists mad. Lima’s beaches are supposed to be pretty good. There’s a theater scene which I know might distract her. For a night or two anyway. Just because we’re going on an adventure doesn’t mean we have to avoid having a little vacation on the way there. 

And we do have our little holiday while Lara makes the necessary arrangements for the trip into the rainforest. Oh. Lara complains, but I think she’s actually looking forward to spending time with me. At least that’s what I think. She just uses the delay in getting the chopper as an excuse. I’m on to you, Lara Croft.

There are supplies, a helicopter and a bunch of other things I only half pay attention to, and when I put on that swimsuit Lara forgets to explain the rest to me. She doesn’t let me out, either. I guess she doesn’t want other people to see me in it. I don’t really mind, I technically bought it for her.

We’re both positively bouncing with excitement by the time we’re boarding the helicopter and Lara clearly has something she wants to say. There’s me and her, the pilot, and a man she hired as a guide. As we fly towards the forest, Lara can’t hold it in and starts to talk about what we’re looking for. Or where. It’s cute, so I sit back and listen, my camera pointed at her face. Fresh SDcard and everything. I’m sure everyone would love to see Lara in a swimsuit, but she wouldn’t appreciate that. That’s for the private collection.

“Paititi is a lost Inca city. Various accounts all place it in the general region where Peru, Bolivia and Brazil all meet.” When Lara talked about anything archaeological, there is this light in her eyes, and both her face and hands get really animated. She’s just getting started, but I can see that she’s already in the zone.

Lost Inca City? I thought. No sweat. We got this. “Is that what we were looking for last time?”

“No, though I think we were close and didn’t even realize it. You know that strange vibration we can feel in the air around those...artifacts?” She doesn’t say ‘crystal skulls’ and I don’t blame her. It’s a strange enough phenomenon for a pair of women who encountered a weather controlling queen. For normal people it’s even more out there crazy.

“And those carvings. There was something similar when we were in Peru last time.” Her face lights up even more when I add that to the discussion. I know she loves it when I’m paying attention. It’s interesting, and relevant. Why wouldn’t I pay attention? Look at her face!

“Exactly! I still think this is the best place to start, simply because of what happened last time.”

Last time. Our Peru incident. It had been the first expedition we’d tried after Yamatai. Something simple and not too exciting to get Lara’s feet wet, and help me get back into the groove of filming. We’re partners, after all, and I’m never letting her leave me behind.

Things got a little hairy, and I ended up saving her cute little ass. We don’t talk about Peru, but from the look on her face, I know we’re going to have to discuss Peru. Ugh. I should have expected it. We’re in Peru!

“There’s a valley where some large geoglyphs were discovered several years ago. Some French explorers thought that it might have been a _map_.” Our guide looks pretty bored, but I’m actually interested. I lean forward and grab her hands to stop her from accidentally smacking someone. 

“None of the further expeditions ever really found anything, but I think they were on the right track. One of the expeditions discovered some carvings that look eerily similar to what we saw in Costa Rica, _and_ it’s in roughly the same area we stumbled into a year and a half ago.”

“What do we do when we get there, sweetie? I mean what if there’s more of those...things?” I’m referring to the dopplegangers. Only they’re not really. Just somehow copies of us we encountered in the underground temple, with sunken in black eyes and grotesque expressions on their faces. The memory sends a chill down my spine. I’d _shot_ Lara’s. I think I had nightmares for weeks about it.

“We don’t let ourselves get separated, for one thing,” she’s saying. I don’t catch the rest of it, and she stops talking as a loud beeping sound comes from the cockpit. We suddenly fall and the chopper begins to spin and wobble out of control. I hold onto Lara tighter but she’s ripped right out of my arms. I barely have time to scream before I black out.


	3. A Day and a Night

I’ve been looking forward to this expedition for months now. Sam says I have an itch that needs to be scratched and she’s not entirely wrong. But for her sake and my own sanity I think we let the itch go unscratched longer than we should have. I’d expected about six weeks before heading to Peru, but it turned into six months and if I am honest with myself I don’t really mind it. There isn’t any sense of urgency, and there’s now a big world map with two dozen pins in it of sites that we need to investigate. So it hasn’t been unproductive on a professional level at least. That’s something I tell myself when I lay awake at night wondering why I’m still in civilization.

On a personal level I’m probably the most awkward date imaginable, but Sam puts up with me. We’ve made it into a weekly thing, to actually go out to dinner, though most nights are either spent in or at parties and clubs depending on which of us wins the debate. Which is usually me. It is all refreshingly normal. 

But the clock is ticking and when Sam finds me obsessively studying that damned skull, she announces she’s going to buy plane tickets to Lima, Peru and we’ll be leaving in two days. Leave it to Sam to give short notice.

The flight is uneventful right up until the point she lures me into the lavatory to have her way with me. I thought I could resist her but she has this way of touching me that makes it hard to argue with her. The walk of shame back to our seats is particularly grating, but I can’t keep the purr out of my voice when I tell her it had been worth it. It is always worth it with Sam.

It takes me three days to get the guide and equipment for our flight to the rainforest. It would have taken less time except Sam has other ideas. She’s very, very convincing and I only put up token resistance. I think this is the honeymoon stage. I’m not sure I want it to end, really. The only difference in our behaviour that I’ve noticed is the sex. We’ve always been close and touchy. Now there’s a romantic aspect to the touching that I can’t get enough of when we’re alone. I’m sure we positively look sappy to outsiders, but it’s important to me, and her I’m sure, that our relationship remains the same comfortable it’s always been.

When we approach the helicopter I have some doubts as to it’s safety. It’s a little older than I expected, but I reason that a lot of these vehicles have been designed to last a long time, and the pilot inspects it, right? Sam doesn’t notice so I don’t voice my fears. The ride seems smooth and I’m in the middle of explaining our destination to Sam when everything goes horribly wrong.

Alarms are going off, the craft is spinning out of control and then I’m tumbling through the air and into the trees. This is not one of the experiences I ever wanted to relive again, and I think I only survive out of sheer stubborn luck. I lay dazed for quite some time, passing in and out of consciousness. I dream, but I can’t recall about what.

When I’m able to drag myself to my feet, I can tell by the sun that it hasn’t been too long. Maybe an hour. I don’t know where the helicopter crashed, and the canopy is too thick to find any smoke. There’s a pain in my chest that has nothing to do with any injuries as I think of Sam. I’m not really a believer in god, not in the religious sense but I still say a prayer as I start to move through the underbrush. Nothing seems broken, but I’ve got some cuts and lacerations and I think at least one rib is bruised. 

The only thing I have on me is my utility knife, and it’s a piss poor replacement for a machete. Add to that I’m a little hobbled from the crash landing and a less stubborn person might have given up. I have a radio on me, clipped to my belt. I try several frequencies. No answer. I have a very good reason to keep moving, and her name is Sam. She could be hurt or worse, and I don’t really want to think about the worse part. At least there’s no mad cultists around to get in the way. Just snakes and spiders and other creepy things. Depending on who you ask that probably isn’t an improvement. Not Sam, though. Sam isn’t as squeamish as most people think she is. She once wanted a pet tarantula. That argument lasted for hours.

It’s really easy to get turned around in the rainforest, and you don’t really realize that until you’re in the thick of things. Everywhere looks the same, there are sounds and noises and smells and it’s really easy to become confused and lost. On top of that I’m trying not to panic or have flashbacks, and I’m only partially succeeding. I force myself to shake off the fear, and move uphill. If I can get an idea of where I am, or see the crash site, I’ll feel a hell of a lot better. 

It takes me hours just to get up far enough out of the valley to see over the canopy, and it’s hard going. While it’s not quite the hottest month around here it’s so humid that I sometimes have trouble breathing. It’s grossly uncomfortable. I just have to put that out of my mind. But at the top of the valley, what I see makes my heart sink - there’s a trail of smoke to the east. That’s where the heli went down and that’s where Sam is. The only problem is they’re several kilometers away, and I’ve been traveling at a ninety-degree angle to them. It will take me hours to get there, with no guarantee they’ll have stayed put. 

I give myself five minutes to have a panic attack, pacing around in circles and trying to calm myself down. When that time is up, I gird myself and start to make a path to the east. To the helicopter. To _Sam_.

I try the radio again, knowing I need to rest or stop. I can’t get to Sam if my legs drop out from under me but there’s nothing nearby, no safe place to really sleep. The sun is sinking lower, and I change my strategy to one of survival. Shelter, fire and water. There’s a chocolate bar in one pocket and I break off a piece to chew on while I work. I start with fire first, for warmth and to ward off bugs and other wildlife. Everything is so _wet_ but I get a fire going, and start to clear the underbrush. I eventually feel confident enough to sit next to my fire, but I don’t think I’m going to sleep very well. I don’t trust the water nearby, so I’m going to have to find another source in the morning. I wish I had a container to boil it. I’m parched.

_Sam, please be allright. For God’s sake stay put!_

I doze off at some point, but I keep getting woken up. Sounds of animals shuffling around, feeling something crawl up my arm, and my innards gnawed at by both hunger and worry. The worry is the worst part, just like on Yamatai. Not knowing if she’s even alive. Knowing if she is she’s probably scared, and worried just as much as I am.

It’s not a secret I’ll move heaven and earth to get to Sam. What’s less known is how _terrified_ the whole experience makes me. The difference between survival and death is that I simply put that fear aside and let my instincts guide me. I just hate when they tell me to stay put until daylight. I whittle away the time trying to make spears out of sticks, and wishing I had a bow. I could try to fashion one, but I don’t know how effective it would be. If I’m stuck here much longer, I know I’ll have to try if only to feel better. One of the keys to surviving in the wilderness is motivation and keeping yourself positive.

When the sun rises, I’m relieved. I’ve had maybe two hours of sleep at this point, plus some assorted cat naps filled with dreams of black, soulless eyes. The last one has me so awake that I’ve given up on sleep entirely. I put out my fire and try to restore my little nest back to nature as best as I can, then try the radio again.

“Sam? Come in Sam. Can you read?” One of the heavy spear-sticks works better than my knife for hacking through the brush, and will certainly be better for defense. The radio crackles and there’s only static. I fall into a routine, the sounds of hacking interspersed with static, and my own voice saying Sam’s name. I don’t want to wear out the battery, so I try 15 minute intervals, than thirty minute as the day progresses.

I wager I’ve made it about half way when I spot a stone wall. It’s old and weather-worn, but it’s definitely man made. There’s not enough for me to be able to tell by what culture, and I don’t _think_ it’s where we wanted to be, but I cross over it and take a look around. At the very least this might make a good place to come back to and set up shelter, and it might prove archaeologically interesting. 

Regardless of it’s merit, I need to rest, so I find a sheltered spot and sketch what I see to study later. I’ve gotten used to the rainforest by now so I think I can find it again, but it won’t be easy. It’s getting close to noon when I start moving again. I find a stream. It’s fast moving, so probably safe, but just in case, I take the moss on some of the rocks and squeeze the water out of that. It’s a natural filter, and the moss can be useful to make a fire or as bandaging. It tastes terrible, but it’s better than being dehydrated.

The radio crackles and I grab for it. “Sam?!”

“Lara? Thank god!”

The sound of her voice fills me with so much relief that my knees threaten to buckle. “Oh thank god. Where are you? Tell me you’re somewhere near the crash.”

“I’m kind of right in the middle of it!” I can hear the quiver in her voice, despite the faux cheer. It worries me.

“Are you okay? What happened after the crash?” I try to put as much confidence in my voice as I can. I don’t want her to worry or know that I was in pain or anything of the sort.

“I thought you were _dead!_ You were… you just got ripped out of the cabin like nothing!” She is starting to sound hysterical.

“Take a breath. Breathe. I’m okay Sam. I’m okay now. You found me. Well you found the radio. What happened to you?” My voice is much calmer than I am. I’m hacking my way through the undergrowth to get to her, and wishing I could move even a little bit faster. I’m getting caught and tangled up and cut by thorns and it’s so _frustrating_! And I’m really starting to notice those injuries from the crash. I’m not going to tell her about them if I can help it.

I must have made a sound, because she’s silent for a moment. “Sam?”

“I’m here.” I expect her to ask me if I’m okay, but she doesn’t. I think she’s decided to try to be brave. I work to keep my breathing even, and let her voice soothe me.

“After you fell out, we crashed. I think I was thrown out too. I came to really far from the helicopter. It took me forever to get here.”

If she is at the crash site, then she might not be alone. “What about the others? Are they okay?”

There’s a long pause before Sam answers. “No. The pilot is … she didn’t make it. I don’t know where Victor is.”

I don’t ask her to elaborate, because I want her to focus on something else entirely. “What about the supplies? Food? Water? Our tools?” We need to focus on the positive and not the negative. I can probably go all day blaming myself for leading more people to their deaths but that will get us nowhere. I’ll save that for after.

“Uhm.” Sam’s voice crackles again. “I think the water supplies are okay. Food might be a problem. Oh! My camera! It works!”

I force a smile. “That’s great, Sam. You can document it as we starve to death.”

“Well I do need to lose some weight, sweetie.”

“No, you do not!”

For a moment I forget we’re stuck in the forest. “I’m going to go silent for a bit, Sam. I want to conserve power on these. I think I’m still a few hours off.”

“I’ll try to pull everything I can salvage together so we can sort through it when we get here.” There’s another pause on her end, and this one lasts several minutes. I’m about ready to check on her when she talks again. “Okay I’m going to put the radio down too. It’ll be nearby but some of these things are heavy!”

I smile. Maybe we can’t save the trip but at least I know she’s safe. ““I’ll see you soon, Sam. I love you.”


	4. No Rewind

I can’t say I’ve ever fallen out of an airplane before but there’s a first time for everything. I guess a helicopter can count for that. I don’t know how long I was out for, but the blood on my head is dry and I’m sore just about everywhere. Was this how Lara felt on Yamatai? Oh god, _Lara_.

She’d been there and then she’d been gone! It makes me feel helpless and my entire body is trembling. I stumble to my feet and scream for her, but there’s no answer. She could be anywhere. She could be _dead_ and the thought makes me want to curl up and throw up.

But Lara wouldn’t give up, not until she knew for sure. It’s not something she’s ever told me, but I’ve seen the look in her eyes. If she lost me, she’d just give up and die. So I can’t let her lose me. I can’t die. I can’t give up. I can’t give Lara a reason to not go on.

And that psychs me up. I start walking. It’s not easy, I don’t have anything to cut through the foliage but I push and I push until I’m exhausted. It’s tiring. I’m thirsty and hungry, my cuts sting and I want to just stand there and cry. It’s not an appealing mental image. I’m not going to be a wuss. As I walk, I start to think that I can’t do this just for Lara. I have to do this for myself too. I’ve already proven to her that I can take care of myself but I don’t feel like I’ve proven it to _me_ yet. I just need to shut up the part of my brain that’s constantly whining in the back of my head. She’s annoying, the prat.

_Sam, you can’t do this. You’re gonna die. Lara’s already dead. Just take a seat and let all the ants eat you or something. Then you could go be with her._

“Shut up!” I hit myself in the head, which makes me kind of dizzy, but it works kind of. I’m being stupid. I need to find that helicopter, and then I need to find Lara. If I know her she’ll be trying to find it too. And she’ll be okay. Maybe the others’ll be there too. The pilot, and our guide. I think his name is Victor. He seemed like a nice guy, so I hope he’s okay too.

I’m not at all ready when it starts to get dark. Everything is too wet to start a fire, but I’ve got a lighter and persistance pays off. I don’t sleep at all. I keep expecting something to attack me or bite me or poison me. The last two times I was in a rainforest Lara was there, and we had a base camp and everything. It was comfortable. Like one of our hiking or backpacking trips. This? This is a disaster!

I smell it before I find it. Burning fuel and something else, something that I’m way too familiar with for comfort. Burning flesh.

The chopper is in three pieces. The cockpit is on fire and I don’t need to look to know the state of our pilot. I can smell her. It makes me gag, but I look around, trying to find our guide. “Victor? Victor! Lara!” I don’t think about the pilot. I never even learned her name. It doesn’t seem right, but I can’t dwell on that.

I shout for several minutes, but there’s no answer. Maybe there’s a radio. I don’t see Victor’s body, so he could be alive. I hold onto that hope while I pick through the wreckage. When I find the radio, and when I hear Lara’s voice, I have to sit down. My legs just give up and I know I’m crying so I’m glad she can’t see it. She sounds like she might be hurt, but she’s not letting it on, and I’m not going to press her right now.

Filled with renewed purpose, I start to pull together all the supplies. We have water, but only a little food. Lara will be happy to see the purification tablets. And my camera, of course. My harness didn’t survive the crash so I’ll have to hold onto it, but I’ve done that before so it’s only a little inconvenient. I find our backpacks. Batteries and SD cards, maps and Lara’s notebooks. I also find her climbing axe.

Lara loves this thing. At least that’s what it looks like. It’s like it has become an extension of her and she just loathes the idea of leaving it behind. If I was her, I’d hate it. The people it’s killed, the _memories_ associated with it. Things I’d rather forget. My soul itches just looking at it. This thing saved her life and mine, and probably my soul. I don’t know what happens to a soul pushed out of its body but oblivion is probably a horrible place.

The axe has a weight to it and I swing it around, before turning it over and over in my hands. It’s quickly clear to me how useful this would be in any number of situations, including fighting someone. When I hit one of the broken crates with it and it sinks deep into the wood, I shudder. There’s this vibration right up my arm, and I have a vision of Lara pulling it out of some man’s skull.

I let go of it like I’ve been shocked and turn my back to it. I still don’t understand how she could have done all that. And I know I don’t, and I don’t ever want to. I can barely shoot straight, how can I take a life up close? The thought reminds me that we’d brought weapons. Lara had insisted on it, and I hadn’t objected. In one of these crates should be ammo, a rifle, two pistols and some machetes and knives. She hadn’t packed a bow. So I had. Because I’m a good girlfriend that way.

I find the pack with the pistols and knives, and one of the machetes. The rifle and the bow can be anywhere, so I keep looking, always trying to not lose the crash site. At least with the machete I can move through the underbrush and vines, and try not to think about the things that can make us need any of this. Big predators are at the top of my mind, but who knows if there’s someone out there who doesn’t want us investigating these skulls or this forest. After all, we hadn’t expected anyone to be on Yamatai.

There’s a chunk from the crash down a hill, so I move carefully down towards it, not wanting to risk wrenching my ankle or anything. Once I’m down, I cautiously approach the wreckage. There had been a snake earlier, so I use the machete to poke around. I literally shout Eureka as I pull the bow and quiver out of the wreckage. Lara is going to be so happy, I just knew it. Maybe I’ll ask her why she prefers this over something with more power. We don’t really have much of a choice, the rifle is still missing, and it’s not like we’re going to have much else to do except maybe wait for rescue. But something about it calms me down. I’ve seen Lara hit targets like they were easy mode.

The smell of burning fuel has lessened somewhat, but it still burns my throat. I’ve taken everything I can upwind, far enough away to get some space from the smoke but close enough that Lara can still find me.

Hearing footsteps, I look around. “Lara?” Oh, thats stupid. Thats really stupid, what if that isn’t Lara? And isn’t Lara. Its Victor. “Oh thank god! Victor!” I start to run towards him. “I’m really happy to see you. I didn’t know if you’d made it!”

I see he has the rifle, which doesn’t set off any alarms until he points it at me. I put my hands up. “Whoa. Okay. Whoa, hey, don’t shoot! I’m a friend!” He spoke English right? I remember him and Lara talking in English, so its not like there’s a communication issue here. But he looks very serious, and very deadly.

He keeps moving towards me and I’m backing up. I trip over the supplies just as I hear the rifle crack. There’s this burning sensation in my shoulder. It hurts worse than almost anything I’ve ever experienced. Only Himiko hurt more, but this is a close second.

I grab for the first thing I can reach and scramble for cover as another rifle shot splinters a tree near my head. Why is he doing this? What’s going on? I don’t want to _die_! A million things rush through my head and I don’t know what to do. I realize I grabbed the machete. That gives me a small advantage in getting away but he’s fast. I duck under a tree and try to weave back and forth so he can’t shoot me. He still gets close, way too close and I see stars when he hits me with the butt of his rifle. I panic and I turn and then the machete is sticking in his neck. 

Victor hits me again, and screaming I swing the machete one more time before back peddling and falling to the ground. I keep moving back, choking back vomit and wiping at the blood on my clothing that’s not mine. It’s not mine, it’s his and I _killed_ him. The machete is just sticking out of his chest!

“Why… _Why_! Oh god. Oh my god. Oh fucking god...” I can’t control my breathing and I can’t get his face out of my mind, but my throat is too raw to really scream and I’m pretty sure I’m laying in a puddle of my own stomach contents and I don’t care. This isn’t fair, this just isn’t fair. I don’t want to do things like this and I know Lara never wanted me to. But it’s too late. I can’t erase this from an SD card. There’s no rewind, I can’t edit it out as it replays over and over in my head. I’m sick again and again until theres only the painful racking of my body’s heaving..

I feel warm, strong arms around me and I resist them until I hear Lara’s voice and recognize her smell. Burying my face in her chest I sob, and feel like a little shit. It’s not like she got comforted after she killed that Russian. Or anyone after him. I try to push her away but she won’t let me. She just holds me, and she rocks me until my tears are all dried up.


	5. Hard Questions

A nap sounds lovely right now, but I’m so close to seeing Sam that I can taste it. Sam and water, and some food. Take a chance to rest, even. Hopefully there’s enough left of the aircraft’s radio to summon help. Our expedition needs to be cut short, at least for now. We’re going to have a lot of questions to answer after this. Not as many as Yamatai, but there’ll be questions. I just hope I have satisfactory answers. I’d rather not develop a reputation as inviting death on all my travels. It’ll be impossible to attract interns.

I’m probably twenty minutes away and decide to radio ahead to let her know I’m coming. That’s when I hear the retort of the rifle. It’s in the direction that I’m heading in and I start to run. There are two more shots and then silence. My heart pounds in my chest and the blood rushes in my ears as I throw all caution aside to just get to Sam.

When I find her, it just breaks my heart. She’s curled up on the ground, and there’s blood but I don’t think it’s all hers. Not when I see Victor. The rifle is nearby but I ignore it and fall to my knees next to Sam. I _never_ wanted her to go through this, and it’s my fault, all my fault for not being here. She breaks down as I pull her against me. My hands rub at her back. She tries to push me away but I don’t let her. I just rock her. and hold her and I cry with her. I cry _for_ her and for the last bit of innocence she’d had left.

Sam doesn’t say anything when I finally get her to her feet so I can tend to her. I find a clean shirt and then wash her down. We’re blessed with a medkit, but the bullet only grazed her arm. I’m grateful, but still gentle because it has to hurt. Afterwards she sits there, staring at her hands. I don’t want to push her, but seeing her so silent like this worries the hell out of me. Sam is chatty in even the worse situations, so not hearing her talk is disconcerting. I sit down besides her, and she leans against me. My arm goes around her. 

“He came at me with a rifle,” she says, a little dully. “I just..the..it was the only thing I had. I don’t even.. Lara, why did he attack me?” She looks up at me, eyes wet, face contorted into an emotion I know only too well.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out, Sam. You.. you did what you had to. You defended yourself.” I wish she hadn’t had to. If I’d been there she wouldn’t have had to.

“I was so scared. I didn’t think I’d see you again, or see anyone again. I thought I was gonna _die_!” She closes her eyes and shudders against me. “Is this what you felt like?”

“I’m…” I swallow, my mouth dry and my tongue not functioning the way it should. “Yes, I think so.”

“Does it get easier?”

“You’re not going to be in a position to-” 

She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer. “No! Don’t you fucking say it! You can’t keep protecting me, Lara! I have to protect myself. I have to know, _because it’s going to happen again!_ ”

Her voice rises with every word, until she’s shouting in my face. I can’t keep my expression even, and I’m sure I look positively despondent. _It’s going to happen again_ she says. She’s probably right. It feels like trying to speak around a mouthful of gravel, but I finally say, “Yes. And no. It gets easier to do, but each time it feels like a part of me is being cut away.”

She falls quiet again, and I try to turn her head to look her in the eyes. “It took me a long time to accept I wasn’t a bad person for the things that I’ve done. I sometimes wonder if I’m a monster. That Lara Croft died on that island and someone else came back.”

“Do you think there’s some part of Himiko still inside me?”

“I can honestly say she probably left her mark, Sam.” I kiss the top of her head. “But you’re still Sam, where it counts. If you were Himiko do you think you’d be so torn up over this?”

She nods at me, and lets out a little relieved sigh. Then she pokes my arm. “You don’t feel like a monster.” She kisses it. “Or taste like one.” Her lips tickle me and I snicker a little bit. “Monsters don’t laugh either, not like that.”

“So you’re an expert on monsters?” Her resilience is inspiring, and the grin on my face is genuine.

She has that twinkle in her eye again. A little dulled and worn and tired, but it’s there. “No, just an expert on you.”

“Fat lot of good that did you, if we were tiptoeing around each other for so many years.” I’m more than willing to point out we’d both been complete gits about that. She’s sitting up now, and I get up to start to catalogue what we have. My fingers close around the bow and I stare at it, then look up to catch Sam’s eye.

“I packed it because you didn’t and I thought you might want it, even if it was just like a ...comfort thing. Oh! I found your axe too, it’s over there. And there are some arrows. The bow was in the wreckage down the hill….” She closes her mouth as I walk back towards her, the bow held in my hands. I sit next to her and give her a kiss of gratitude. Just _holding_ the thing makes me feel better. Like I can take on the world, or at least this rainforest. My confidence goes through the roof.

“It’s good quality, too. You really knew what to look for.” I smile at her and the way her eyes light up make me realize that I’ve said the right thing. I mean it too. For now at least, the events with Victor have been pushed to the backs of our minds, and we can concentrate more on the now, and the future. Like calling for help. 

Sam hands me some water, and while I want to drink it greedily, I don’t. We need to conserve our supplies and not make ourselves sick. She also finds some wire and I realize I can make some traps. I sit down to get to work, and she comes over to watch. I expect a wisecrack about how nimble my fingers are and I’ve even got a response about her being well aware of that already prepared, but it doesn’t come. I start to worry again about her state of mind, but now isn’t the time to argue.

She stops my work with a hand and looks up at me. “How do you even know all this stuff?”

“Roth,” I answer, simply. “He saw it as his mission to teach me everything he knew about surviving in the wilderness. Maybe because I’d planned to follow in my parents’ footsteps, he wanted to prepare me. Maybe he did it because my father would have. I don’t...really know. I just really enjoyed most of it, and I know he liked having an eager student.”

“What do you think he’d say to all this? Weather goddesses and crystal skulls and that crap with the statues the last time we were in Peru?”

I look up, trying to see the sky through the canopy. “I think he’d say ‘Lara, you can’t always look at something with your eyes. Sometimes you gotta look at it with your heart and your gut, and let that be your guide. You’re a Croft. It’s in your blood.’” God, I miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. Progress.

Sam laughs, the sound like the best song I’ve heard all week, and takes my hand. “It has to piss you off a little. Knowing your father was right.”

“Yes. I’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights looking at his journals, trying to make sense of them. There’s so much there that’s coded or written in verse instead of any way that makes sense!” It is _incredibly_ frustrating, especially now that I know he hadn’t been completely off his rocker.

“Anything about our skulls?” Sam slides into my lap, and I put aside my trap. It’s mostly done, anyway. 

“A few hints and what looks like a riddle. I’m hoping I can make more sense of it after we find Paititi. Which looks like it might have to wait.” 

She must catch the disappointment in my voice, because she touches my face and replies, “Lara, don’t let this ruin it for you. Don’t let me ruin it. I’m fine.”

“We still need help, and to talk to the authorities. It’ll look a lot less suspicious if we don’t suddenly go galavanting off after two people died.”

She makes a face, but doesn’t push the point. I suspect I’ll hear more about it later. “Let me show you how to set those traps, hon. I don’t know about you, but I want to eat more than whatever survived the crash.”

Sam nods at me, so we get up so I can finish the traps and show her how to set them. Maybe an hour and a half pass before we’re back where we were and trying to make a camp out of it. Something rustles in the leaves, and I turn, moving Sam behind me.

What comes out of the forest isn’t even human. Appearing to be a man made of stone, it rumbles towards me, hands outstretched. I grab my axe and the bow. I probably sound exasperated. Just another day in my life. “Sam. Run.”

I don’t think Sam’s dancing is going to save us this time (I’m not even sure how that worked the last time we were in Peru). It’s fast, moving too damned fast and my head rings when it hits me. I lead it away from Sam and back towards the crash site, my arrows doing absolutely nothing to it. But there’s supplies there I can use. Maybe even get some fuel on it and set it ablaze. It should burn hot enough to cut right through that stone, or at least that’s my hope. It clips me again, this time in the side and I’m falling, rolling down the hill and through vines and roots and plants. I barely have time to figure out which way is up when the thing is on me.

It lifts me up, gripping me by the face so I can’t even see my assailant. I try to claw at it, but only tear my fingers and nails open on the stone. So I kick at it, and when I think I’ve managed to weaken it’s grip it grabs my leg and twists it. I feel the bone snap all the way up my spine and my scream must wake the dead. I don’t even have time to _breath_ before it twists the leg the other way. It’s _excrutiating_ and the only thing I can do is to keep struggling.

Struggling makes it hurt even worse, but it’s better than just screaming. Its grip on my head tightens, and my ears pop. My skull is going to be crushed like a grape. I don’t know which direction is up or down and I do something I _never_ do. I _panic_. I’m scrambling and then screaming the only word I can even think of right now. I scream for Sam and pray she doesn’t listen. I don’t want her to watch me die, but she’s the only thing I can even think about right now. 

The stone man drops me, and I land awkwardly on the ground. My ears are ringing. I think I hear gunshots and a voice shouting. I roll my head and I see Sam. I try to tell her to run but I think I’m going down a tunnel now as everything darkens.


	6. Sam vs Wild

Lara thinks she’s a monster. She _says_ that she is and while I can’t agree, I can understand why she feels that way. Anyone who can take a human life as efficiently as she can isn’t innocent any more. And now I’m worried I’m going to be the same. Does that make me a bitch? I _love_ her. I trust her and I respect her, but I can admit that what she’s capable of is scary and a little horrifying. 

She says she got sick with every one. But also that it got easier for her. So it gets easier, which means you have to get less sick each time. Do I even want to become desensitized to this? Lara will walk through hell to get me and kill everyone in her way, but I’m not even sure that I could do the same for her. I know she wouldn’t even want me to. I almost wish she hadn’t saved me now, if this is the price she’d paid. I’m happy to be alive and with her but now I understand. And if I’d understood then what I know now, I would have wanted her to just _leave_ me. Because I’m going to have to live with this and she’s already living with something no one should ever have to!

I know Lara. She’d tell me she’d have paid that price anyway, because it was the only choice she had. I still don’t have to like it. And she has to believe she still has her soul because I need her to believe that, for both of us. I don’t want to lose my own! I’m so sorry that she ever went through this for me.

Things feel better the longer we talk, and I’m going to make sure she finishes this expedition, so help me...Except it seems like this place has other plans for us because it’s one of those moving statues. Only it’s so much faster than last time! It looks uglier too, like it’s been weathered down and beaten but it still resembles a man and it’s coming right at us.

“Sam, run.” 

I’m moving before I realize what my feet are doing. Lara’s not with me. Oh god, she’s being _bait_. I’m not going to just run away without her. I grab the rifle and charge in the direction they’d gone. Could the trick we’d used last time work? That had been a different part of Peru, and they hadn’t been so violent. I’d distracted them so we could escape. I saved her butt last time, so I’m going to save her again. I can do this. She’s taught me to shoot, and that thing isn’t human so I don’t have to feel bad about wanting to turn it into rubble.

What scares me more than a walking stone man is the blood-curdling scream coming from Lara. My blood runs thin and my stomach turns into this cold hard ball. I feel dizzy. And then the screaming stops. I run faster. Lara screams again. It’s Lara and she’s screaming and I hear my name and it sounds like she’s _begging_ for me. She has a vulnerable side. It’s a side she’s only ever shown me late at night when the dreams won’t leave us alone because she hates being weak. But this is completely different. Something that’s new and terrible. She’s dying, this is the sound of my soul mate _dying_ , and I’ve never run so fast in my life. Dread and anger push me forward.

I always wondered how someone can do something extraordinary or impossible. Especially me. Lara goes silent and suddenly it all makes sense. I come out of the trees like a dervish. It has its hand closed around Lara’s head and her leg is all sorts of messed up. Just seeing that pisses me off like crazy. I throw rocks, I shoot it until I run out of bullets, then I start hitting it with the goddamn rifle. The stock splinters and then the gun breaks in my hand, but the creature drops Lara. She gurgles something. Probably trying to tell me to run. I do need to run, but to lead the stone man away from her. I have an idea and I just need to get there before it catches me.

I grab Lara’s climbing axe as I pass our camp and rush towards the main crash site. The fire has mostly gone out, but I’m not here for that. I climb up onto the wreckage and wait. The ground shakes a bit as the stone man runs past, then I jump onto its back and lodge the axe into the top of its head. I twist it and hack and I probably sound like a maniac or some kind of magical girl calling out attacks. I’m not even sure what I’m shouting, but I’m gouging chunks of stone out of it’s head and it’s making it go slower so I shout more. It spurs me on.

I don’t know how long it takes before it finally collapses with me on top of it. I hack at it a little longer just to be sure, then get up and run back towards where I’d left Lara. My legs are going to fall off but I have to get to her, I have to help her. I _can’t_ lose her. She’s my anchor, my home, the _one_ singular constant in my life.

She’s laying there, limp. Her chest is rising and falling, so I slow down just a little, desperate to breathe again. Lara’s leg is clearly broken, and I know I have to set it. I’m scared of what’ll happen if bone has broken through her skin but it doesn’t look that bad. I have to get her back to camp and cut her pants leg off before I can do anything about it. I’m grateful that she’s unconscious, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to be gentle, even if I have such a great line ready about getting her trousers off.

I macguyver a sled out of the remains of the chopper, and it takes me like an hour but I get her back to camp. With a fire going and the first aid kit, I can finally get a good look at her while we still have some light.

I think her nose is broken, and she’s got blood in her hair and her face is bruised. I have no way to tell if there’s anything wrong with her head, so I’m going to go with the idea that she’s at least concussed. I should probably wake her, but I use one of the painkillers in the kit first. She’ll hate me for it, but I don’t want her in pain. Making her head as comfortable as possible, I check for anything that might require immediate attention. Her leg looks the worst of it but there’s some bruising on her stomach so I don’t know if any ribs are broken. Nothing _feels_ wrong so I’ll just have to hope and rely on her to tell me if anything is wrong. There’s a danger in that, because she’s Lara, and Crofts are terrible patients. I should know, I spent weeks and months with her after Yamatai.

Cutting away at her pants, I get a good look at her leg. It’s twisted pretty badly and the bruising is terrible but no bones are sticking out. What would Lara do if our positions were reversed? Make a splint out of trash and straighten my leg and have to listen to me curse like a sailor. That’s what Lara would do.

I can do that. I can totally do that. I just hope she doesn’t wake up in the middle of this because I’m pretty sure it’s going to hurt like _fuck_. I’ll just have to curse a lot for the both of us.

I get the split made and I’m pushing her leg back together. It really kind of makes me feel squicky. It’s not just the sound it makes, but the way it feels. This is someone’s leg, and it’s a special someone’s leg and legs aren’t supposed to move and feel like that! It’s hard in the wrong places and soft in the wrong places and holy hell I really am cursing like a sailor.

So naturally, that’s when Lara decides she wants to wake up. She regrets it almost immediately, but the morphine or whatever must be doing it’s thing, because the only sound she makes is a short, mournful moan. It’s heartwrenching. “Shh shh...hold on a little bit sweetie, I’m almost done. We’ve got to get your leg back together. How are you going to get on top of me without it?”

It makes her blush so I count that as a small win, and keep talking to distract her. It’s more like babbling to distract me, but that’s neither here nor there. “You should have seen it though. I wish I’d had my camera. I was badass! I hacked that thing’s head right off! Thwack! Then I made this sled out of scrap metal and sweetie you really need to lay off the jaffa cakes because you’re heavy.” I’m joking, mostly, but Lara really does love those things. I’m buying her one the size of a car when we get back if she makes it through this.

“Okay I need you to...you’re probably going to want to bite down on something. Here.” I wipe off a stick and hand it to her. She’s sweating now, and when she nods I grit my own teeth and push her leg together the rest of the way. That scream is something I never want to hear again as long as I live, but at least it’s mercifully short. 

I can tell she’s upset, showing her weaknesses. But I also know she’s holding it together a lot better than I would be. I’m not even sure how she’s still conscious. I would have passed out again!

“Sam,” she whispers. Her hand pats at mine, and her voice is breathless. “You’re doing really good.”

“Well one of us has to hold it together,” I say, my voice sounding as strained as i feel. I am trying to not show my fear or how worried I am, and if I fail Lara doesn’t let on. I’m pretty sure I failed. She holds my hand in hers and and squeezes it. 

“Do you want some water?”

She nods weakly, and I have to let go of her to go get some. With my back to her I can let my emotions show on my face and I’m shaking a little, but I get the water and some food, and drag our packs closer. I help her drink, and then sit next to her. My hands want something to do or hold. Like my camera. I look at Lara again and decide that neither of us need to relive this memory, so I unwrap some jerky.

She bumps her head against my leg, and I shift around enough for her to get it into my lap. Even though this is really serious, I grin like an idiot at the way she’s looking at me. She never lets herself get on drugs, probably because it makes her _adorable_. She hates taking even aspirin. At least we’re together. But I’m going to need to get help. She can’t travel, not like this. I don’t want to leave her, but what else can I do? She might die without help. Not happening.

The sound of a rainforest at night is kind of creepy. There’s wildlife sounds and insects, but no sound of humans. No traffic, or voices, or airplanes. Just the still air and the natural sounds of the world. It hadn’t bothered me last night, but as the sun sets and leaves me and Lara alone with just a fire for comfort, it starts to get to me. I have to defend us. Me. Sam Nishimura fashionista and filmmaking genius against whatever dangers the forest will throw at us. We’re boned.

And if another one of those stonemen appear, we’re kind of extra boned! 

“Sam?”

I look down at her. Oh yeah, I need to keep her awake. That’s probably important, with her head injury and everything. God I’m stupid sometimes. “Yeah?”

She sounds as dazed as she looks, and her voice is a little wobbly. “Ever think about getting married?”

I’m not remotely expecting that question or anything even close to the subject at all. Ever. Never ever. Marriage has been about as far away from my radar as Russian Ballet. I stare at her, incredulous. What is she getting at? Was this a proposal? I brush back her hair. “Sweetie, you’re high.”

She laughs, and turns her head to bury it against my thigh. I don’t think she’s dropped the subject, and if it keeps her awake, I guess I can put up with it. “I’ve always figured I’d be eighty with a cat and still partying it up with you geriatric style. Maybe with a dog. Oh we should get a chinchilla! It’s just a really complicated thing for me, with my family and everything. And what guy could I ever find that didn’t just want the money and the sex? Who could love me for _me_?” There’s faux drama in my voice at the last part, but Lara sees right through it. I’m doing a little soul baring here. Her hair is soft under my fingers, and I know the answer to my questions before I even finish saying it. “But then I got you. You love me for me. That’s all I ever needed. It’s all I’ll ever need.”

Lara makes this non-committal grunt and I narrow my eyes, wondering if she’s been fishing for information. I dismiss the idea as ridiculous. When it came to relationships Lara is about as subtle as a cow. She smiles at me. “Wasn’t one of the things I thought about growing up too. And then I met you and I realized that I wouldn’t need anyone else either.”

“Oh sweetie…” I lean down to kiss her. I can take advantage of her state and get her to answer just about anything but I’m not going to. So it’s best to shut her up and change the subject, because if she really is serious, I’m not ready to answer that question yet. Not like this.


	7. Fevered Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for brief suicidal imagery and remembering the near-assault on Yamatai

When I was carrying Sam down the mountain after saving her from Himiko and Mathias, she’d been out of it and really dazed. But she kept looking at me with this adoring look on her face. And loving, though I had just thought that was the emotion of the moment. I hadn’t allowed myself to contemplate that there might be something more to her feelings just then, too drained and damaged from the experience to want to risk the heart break if I was wrong.

I was her saviour, her hero no matter what Mathias said. By being a survivor, I saved Sam. Whatever damage to my body and my mind and my soul had been worth it and was still worth it. But right now I start to understand why she’d looked at me like that, because this time our positions have been reversed. She’s earned that feather in her cap, but god if she’d felt this way when looking at me I wish I’d said something back then.

Floating on air from the painkillers and the shock, I say something stupid. It just tumbles out of my mouth. “Ever think about getting married?” 

Of course she reacts with a joke, but I’m utterly mortified that I even brought that up at all, let alone _right now_. Now the conversation is serious, but before I can say anything she keeps talking. I nuzzle my face against her leg and grunt. I don’t want her digging deeper because I don’t even know what the hell I was thinking. Then she tells me that I’m all she ever needs and it means everything right now. But I take note of her reaction. For some day’s sake.

I drift off soon after we kiss. I’m supposed to stay awake but it’s so _hard_ to right now. I want to sink into the warm fuzziness of her embrace. It’s a wonderful place and a feeling that can’t be replaced by just about anything.

The sun is up when I jerk awake. My senses seem like they’ve returned to me. I’m not as foggy headed and when I try to move my leg it seems like the pain is gone. Maybe I can even stand! “Sam? Sam! I’m better now. We can get out of here.”

The only answer is the wind. I feel that old knot in my gut and I get to my feet and look around. “Oh god.”

_I’m back on Yamatai._ It’s impossible. This has to be a nightmare. The sky is covered with clouds, and lightning strikes the mountain overhead. The ritual. “Sam!” Everything else falls away. Peru, the crash, I forget all of it. I have to get to Sam. I can’t lose her, I can’t live _without_ her! I’m going to tear through everything and everyone in my way. There’s not much resistance, though. No soldiers, just one Oni which I dispatch quickly.

When I get there, Mathias is dead. And Sam...and Sam’s eyes are glowing and she’s _gone_. It’s Himiko. It’s Himiko, and I’ve failed. The gun is against my head and before I can stop myself I’m pulling the trigger. 

I watch my body slump over, blood pooling on the ground. It’s surreal. I thought it would hurt more, but I don’t feel anything at all. Sam - Himiko moves over to where I lay. She’s crying. I hear my name, as though it’s being called from far away. Sam is cradling my body and I’ve made a _terrible mistake_.

_Sam! Let me get back to her! Please! I can’t leave her, I can’t leave her behind! Not like this! If there’s a god please don’t let me do this to her!_

She looks up, and it’s as though she sees me. Her eyes glow blue and her voice echoes all around me.

I open my eyes and I’m on the ground. My vision blurs as something clubs me in the head and I roll away only for someone to grab my ankle and yank me back! I hear Russian in my ear as the man pins me down. I struggle, trying to get my elbow into his face. I’m not going to let him win. I can’t let him win! He gets his arm around my throat and twists and then I’m drowning.

The ocean batters me, tossing me around like a bobber in a flood. But I’m stubborn. I think about what Roth would say and I move towards the shore, using the waves to help conserve my energy. It doesn’t take long before I’m out of the water. I want to lay there for a few minutes, but I need to find the others. It’s cold, and I start to shiver. 

Someone offers me their hand, so I take it. “Thanks. I’m not sure what happened, but…”

I stare into blue eyes. They have grey specs, and they’re set into a square face that I memorized a long time ago. It’s my father. He’s not alone, there are other familiar eyes (Roth? Mother? Alex?), but I can’t pull my gaze from my father. I can only stare at him..

It’s impossible, I know it, but he looks exactly how I remembered him the day he left forever. Just a little older. I want to hug him. I want to hit him and I want to scream at him. He left me. My parents _left me_. I was just a girl, and one day they were gone. His arms wrap around me and I beat my fist on his chest as he hugs me. He’s talking but I don’t hear any of it. It’s important, I somehow know it is but I’m so wrapped up in my own childhood angst that it just sounds like my name is being called over and over again. I push him away and glare at him.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through since you’ve been gone? Do you?! It wasn’t fair to me, it wasn’t fair to _Roth_! We might not...maybe we wouldn’t have gone looking for Yamatai! Everything could have been different! They’d all be alive! I’d be able to sleep at night!”

He puts his hands on my shoulders, pain in his eyes and compassion on his face. “Lara.”

_Lara...Lara!_

My leg explodes into agony and I’m awake again. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and taste blood. My face is pressed against Sam’s chest and I’m awake again, oh my god. None of that had been real.

“Oh thank god!” There’s panic in her voice. It verges on hysteria and she hugs me tight. “You were so feverish and you kept thrashing and mumbling and I couldn’t get you to wake up no matter what I tried!”

I reach up to touch her face. She feels real. She has to be real. “You’re not… I kept… I thought I failed. I was back on Yamatai. Then I saw my dad. Did I die?”

She looks so shocked. “What? No! You didn’t die. I was here the whole time. Trust me, sweetie, you were moving around way too much to be dead. You were hallucinating. I’m still me. I’m not Himiko.”

I almost would rather I really had a near-death experience. Somehow, it makes me feel less crazy than just hallucinating. “My leg is killing me.” It’s a subject change and she gives me her ‘Lara I know you’re changing the subject but I’m going to let you’ look. 

“I have to ration these painkillers...Soon, but not yet. You just need to hold on.” I grab her wrist, firmly but not too hard. 

“It’s okay. I can handle the pain. I just can’t handle going back to sleep. If I’m...If I’m awake, I can see you and I know you’re okay. I know you’re not…” I can’t hold my head up much longer so I just nuzzle it against her. “I know you’re okay.”

“I’m okay, sweetie.” She still sounds worried, a tremor in her voice, but she’s putting on a brave face. I must have scared the shit out of her.

“I was back on Yamatai.” It’s probably the pain but I’m not filtering myself right now. There aren’t many things I keep from her as it is, but I’m still glad most of the big secrets between us are already known, because I’ll spill my guts right now if she presses me. “Only it was different. I didn’t get to you in time, and then that Russian, he...”

“It was a nightmare. You’re okay. I’m okay.” She puts my hand on her face. “See? So if I turn into some kind of snake face thing that just means you’re hallucinating.”

I purse my lips and give her a dry smile. “Thanks, Sam. If my next nightmare involves snakes, that’s your fault.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetie.”

My hand is still on her face, and my fingers start tracing her features of their own accord. I’m still trying to reassure myself she’s here and actually real. And I might as well face it, the texture of her skin has always been a fascination for me. I don’t know what it really is about her, but it’s wonderful.

When we were in boarding school, I’d watch her apply make-up or skin lotion, and just seeing the way it shone under most light sources always did really funny things to my stomach. And even then she was a really touchy person, so I got to feel her skin a lot and neither of us thought it was weird. It was just so fascinating to me. Smooth and soft, and as far as I’m concerned it’s perfect. I spent hours just caressing the curve of her cheek, or tucking her hair behind an ear, or testing the firmness of her lips with a finger. And she’d watch me while I did that, while her own hand explored my face or my shoulders. It wouldn’t have taken much. Just a kiss. Just lean in a little more and everything changes. So many times I almost did just that. How many years did we lose because we were too scared to act? And then University and Sam’s endless partying and boyfriends and god I was a jealous git. I even punched a bloke over her. Even on the Endurance there’d been a night or two where I’d almost... There was one memory especially, though...

“Lara? Lara, don’t drift off!”

I blink my eyes, feeling a dopey smile on my face. My hand pats her cheek. “I’m still here, just thinking about pleasant memories. And how stupid we were when we were younger.” It wasn’t really that long ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

“Tell me about it. God, I was such a ho, when I really just wanted you to ...I don’t know. Slam me against the shower wall and have your way with me.”

When I laugh it hurts, but feels good at the same time. “Wish noted. Just you wait, I’ll hobble in on crutches when you least expect it.”

“It’s no fun when I know it’s coming!”

“Who said you’d know when it was coming?” The flirting is pleasant and I can pretend my leg just aches rather than feels like I want to cut it off to get rid of the pain. I realize what the conversation sounds like only after Sam starts giggling. It’s like she’s twelve. Sometimes I swear she really is twelve and just never grew up.

I thwack her lightly again, and she sobers up, a little. “Why don’t you tell me about it. I need to figure out this radio anyway, and it’ll keep you awake.” A radio isn’t a camera, but maybe she can get it to work and get help. I’m the first to admit we really need it because I’m not going to be able to walk out of here easily. 

“All right. Since you insist. I was thinking about how close we got in boarding school. You remember? You’d sneak into my bed and we’d talk and hug each other. And all that touching.” 

“So pretty much a normal night at Chau Croft?”

My laughter hurts my ribs again, but I don’t mind. She is right though. We wake up next to each other more often than not. Especially while we’d recovered from the island. We actually ended up getting just one bed, and that was _before_ Costa Rica and our relationship growing more intimate. Our subconcious had moved faster than the rest of us.

What I am actually thinking about was one night, our second year at Uni. It sticks out in my memory because while it was a point when we’d both felt low, it was also a high point. I take a breath to summon up enough strength to talk. I’m sure I slur a little bit, and my right hand moves while I talk to better illustrate my point. Or flops around.

“I remember a time when you were sitting on the balcony. You’d gotten home from a date. I’d spent the night in my room, trying to study but mostly having a pity party about being alone. A very jealous pity party.” 

Sam doesn’t seem to remember what I’m talking about. There’s confusion in her eyes so I put my finger over her lips so I can finish first. It’s a bit exhausting to talk this much right now, but I have to finish, now that I’m telling it. “I came out, and there you were. I thought you were just admiring the scenery, but you were crying. I approached you and put my arms around you and you just folded up against me. I didn’t...really know what to do so I hugged you and rubbed your back while you tried to tell me what happened. You were so knackered that you kept repeating things and backtracking over your words. I’d never known how insecure you were about yourself and your body. About your behaviour. You asked me if I thought you were a slut and why did I want to be friends with someone who couldn’t feel anything when they were with people and nothing I said could get through to you.”

It isn’t like I ever want to slut shame my best friend. I have to stop there. I need to catch my breath, and she’s staring at me like I’ve laid her bare. I hold up a finger to indicate there is more, but it takes me a full minute before I feel like I can speak again. It isn’t just my breath, but remembering it all is making me feel emotional.

“And uh. You got onto the topic of your parents, which is always sort of a sore spot, then you started apologizing because you remembered my parents, then you asked me why no one loved you. So I kissed you.”

“I really… don’t remember any of this,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s confused, or hurt, or what, so I still her hand that’s on the radio and make sure she looks at me. 

“I know. I just...I couldn’t find the words so I wanted to show you that you weren’t alone. So I kissed you, and then you kissed me back. And it was like I’d turned a dial on you, but I had to stop it when your hands wandered.” I hadn’t wanted to stop. I had thought about kissing her so many times before and it had been like electricity. It’s cliche but that doesn’t make it any less true. Or any less true now.

Sam looks mortified. It is an adorable look on her face and a grin finds it’s way to my lips. “I never let myself assume it was anything more than you needing the contact. And I was really glad I was sober at the time.”

She looks dismayed now. “Oh god that would have been a horrible morning.”

It probably would have been awkward for a few days, but I think we would have recovered. “We can bounce back from anything, you know. I’m sorry I took advantage of you.”

“You’re seriously apologizing for something that happened like four years ago?” Her initial shock over, Sam is grinning at me like I just told her she won the lottery. I eye her warily. “I took advantage of you.”

Sam has a way of rolling her eyes that just makes me feel like an complete git. “You wanted to comfort me. I forgive you, if that makes you feel better.”

“Actually, it does.” It’s a stupid thing to feel relief over, but I do. 

That relief evaporates at her next words. “Good. So how far did my hands get before you thought it was a good idea to stop?” 

Fortunately, I have just the counter. “About as far as my hands got on you.”

“Oh my god, Lara!” I made Sam blush. I’ll call that a victory. It’s something I really need right now. I don’t want to dwell on that nightmare. I don’t think I’d like what I’d find.


	8. Black Water

Lara is out of it for six hours, and it’s the worse six hours of my life. Worse than being held by the Solari (not by much), worse than that time dad told me he’d be there for my graduation and then duh, didn’t show. She’s _lost_ to me. She thrashes and moans, and I I hear my name a few times. I don’t even know what brought it on so I check her over from head to toe. She’s so feverish that if freaks me out. When I touch her it soothes her a little bit, but it’s not enough. 

I finally find the infection on her back. Some kind of gash she must have gotten while trying to find me, because it doesn’t look fresh. Apologizing the whole time I clean and wash it off, then have to step away to clear my head and my stomach. I’m not a nurse. I barely passed the first aid classes she insists we take. She seems to settle down a bit after that, and her fever breaks. 

We need that radio because for the second time in my life I’m almost certain I’m going to lose her. I rush back to the crash site. Lara’s just barely in sight so I can relax a little while I search. I’m not about to abandon her if I can help it. I’ll probably die in the rainforest alone if I try to get help anyway.

She wakes up after I get back and I’m beyond relieved. My whole body is drained from worry. Still, we flirt and we chat and for a little while my mood improves. Even if I _am_ ready to dig a hole under a rock after she reveals she kissed me.

I tell her I don’t remember that night, but I remember enough of it. I remember my boyfriend at the time trying to pass me around to all his friends. Because I was _easy._ I got home and then the next thing I remember Lara’s holding me. She’s my rock, my support and I didn’t understand why she put up with me. I still don’t.

The kiss… I remember initiating it. I really thought I’d initiated it! But she’d kissed me back and it was _amazing_ , but she stopped it and put me to bed and the hangover had been epic. Lara didn’t bring it up, so I didn’t bring it up, and we pretended it had never happened. But I thought about it sometimes.

Leave it to Lara to apologize for something that far back. I expect her to say she’s sorry if her hands got frisky when we snuggled at night in boarding school. Now _that_ brings back some seriously frustrated memories. And fantasties.

“Sam, you’re leering.” 

I snap out of my reverie and look anywhere but at Lara’s face. I’m sure she has some kind of appraising expression there and I won’t have any of it! “Just thinking about some things. Kind of probably the same things you were thinking about. Ahah!” I point at her. “Now you’re blushing again.” I do a little dance in place because I win, and I’m rewarded with a smile.

“How’s the radio coming?” She starts to sit up but I push her back down. “It’s...coming. I think it’s working but I’m not able to pick anything up. It could be a reception issue.”

Lara winces, and I remember her telling me about her radio tower climb. Nuh uh. No way in hell could I do that. I look at the radio, then at her. She looks resigned. “Oh no. I’m not leaving you, Lara!” I hold up my hands. “I can’t! You could go under again, or something could attack you. You _need_ me.”

“Sam, the last thing I want is to see you walk away, but we need help. I can’t walk. It’s up to you. You can _do_ it.” She takes the radio from my hands and squeezes them. “I trust you. Haven’t I said that enough? You’ll get help, and you’ll come back to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I look at her at a loss. How can she expect me to do this? But she’s looking at me so earnestly. She trusts me. Maybe she’s right! I lean down and kiss her, and we both let it linger. “Okay let me just...get everything ready, make sure you’re armed and I’ve got … stuff. Survival stuff.” Survival stuff is important.

To do this, I’ll need weapons, and something to hack through the foliage and something to keep in contact with Lara. I also need my camera. First though, I need to find that machete. I could bring Lara’s axe but I know she’ll feel better if she has it and I’ll feel better if she has something like that too. Sure, she’ll have a gun and her bow, but if something got close. I shudder and try not to think about it. Besides. I kind of need to face what I did. 

Victor is still laying where I’d killed him, and he’s already starting to decompose. It’s a smell I remember pretty well from being around the Solari but that doesn’t make it any less disgusting, and I’m pretty sure half of what makes me sick is the memory. The way his flesh just _gave_. The weapon cut through him so easily that I’m still disgusted at myself. It’s a worse feeling as I try to dislodge it. I finally get it out of him and find a stream to wash it in. I wash my hands too. It’s probably the fourth time I’ve washed since I killed him. Once after Lara found me, once before I treated her and then after.

No matter how much I rub, my hands don’t get clean, not the way I want them to. I have to give up eventually, and make my way to the wreckage. I get my camera, and put together a pack full of water and food and a map. Then I test the radio before filming the scene. “We’ve been stuck here for two days now, and this is the first time I’ve had a chance to film. Lara is injured, our guide and pilot both dead. Lara’s over here. We’re preparing for me to go look for help, and I’m going to move her to a better position.”

I set the camera down as she rolls her eyes at me. My voice is still a little subdued from what I’d had to do to get the machete. “I got that, sweetie.”

“Are you going to film your entire trip?”

“Yeah. I wanted to wait until you looked better before I started…”

I beam at her when she smiles at me. Her voice is a little tired, and I hand her the map to see if she can figure out which direction I should head in. “Thank you, Sam. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

Getting busy making her a little nest, I sneak peeks at her as she looks at the map. I can’t make heads or tails of it and I don’t even know if she can figure out where we are according to it, but she’s got the eye for that kind of stuff. My camera is capturing both of us and I’m sure I can edit it into something awesome. I wish I could have filmed that stone man. Maybe I can find it’s body. The footage I got in that temple in Costa Rica is still mind boggling, but I’ve stopped being surprised by just about everything.

“You know, I kind of wish this had been like the last time we were in Peru. Sure, it was creepy, they way those statues moved and followed us with their eyes, but they didn’t _attack_ us!” 

“The thing that changed between then and now is what we found in that temple,” Lara pointed out. “If they all really are linked, then maybe we’re somehow marked.” She made a little note on the map and then gestured me over.

“I don’t want to be it, Lara, in some bizarre game of tag..” Crouching next to her, I pay attention as she explains the map, where she thinks we are, and what direction I should go in. She’d come in from up hill so she must have seen more of the area than I had. “So if I head in this direction and make it to these hills here, you think I’ll be able to radio for help?”

“That’s my hope. There’s one thing you can do that might help us out even more, though.” She pointed towards the smoldering remains of the cockpit. “But you don’t have to if you don’t think you can handle it. The GPS might have survived.”

I follow her finger and make a face. “It’s okay. If we can pinpoint our location I can direct help right to you, and make it back to you before they get here.” So I get up, and walk towards the helicopter again. I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants and try to ignore what’s left of our pilot. The only consolation is doesn’t look like she moved around much, so she was probably dead or unconscious when she caught on fire. “I’m sorry. This is our fault and I know you were just doing your job. We’ll get you home to your family, somehow…”

I manage to locate something that kind of looks like a GPS. It’s blackened, and partially melted, but it powers on. Oh thank you thank you thank you! “Lara!” 

I run out towards her and show her on the screen where it looks like there are coordinates. “I don’t know if it’s accurate though. It’s pretty beat up.”

“I think it’s accurate, it’s about where I expect us to be!” She squeezes my hand and we grin at each other for a few minutes. Well it’s a few seconds really but I wish it was longer. Then I point to her shelter. 

“I need to get you over there. Okay? This is going to hurt.” When she nods, I get her onto that makeshift sled and drag her over to the nest I’d set up. She’ll have access to food and water, and I started a fire earlier to smoke out any bugs, which she’ll need for warmth, anyway. Her weapons are in reach. She’s got everything she needs to hang in long enough for help.

Still. I’m staring at her a little dubiously once she’s settled, then I give her the medkit. I trust her not to abuse it, and worry more about her not using any at all. So I shoot her up when she isn’t looking. 

“Sam!” 

“Not a word! I want you comfy before I go.” I kneel next to her and hug her. “I love you. I love you. Oh god just….”

She kisses me and nuzzles my face. “I’m okay. Get going.”

“This time I’m going to treat you to a date. Promise.” I kiss her back. I don’t want to let go but I get up, and get my pack and the machete and my camera. I look at the map, figure out north, and then head east like Lara marked. I promise myself I won’t look back and break it almost immediately. She waves. I wave back, and then turn and walk until she’s out of sight.

Without the map I’d be lost and I already feel lost. This whole thing is terrifying. I can barely make it through London without Google maps! But now I’m tramping through a rainforest with a machete and a camera and a paper map. Paper! I should probably be watching where I’m going better and I nearly twist my ankle twice. Then I spend a full hour walking in circles. I’m about ready to radio Lara for advice when I spot something that sends a chill down my spine. 

It’s a carved stone face, looking at me for all the world like I’d just insulted it’s mother. It’s set into the ferns, green with moss and weathered with age. I zoom the camera in on it and get a little closer, and that’s when my foot triggers a panel, and a door slides open next to the face.

“That’s not creepy in the slightest,” I comment. I look down at the map and there’s nothing on it about this place, but _something_ draws me inside and before long the only light is the flash on my camera. It’s pretty strong (part of the reason I picked this model) and for some reason I can’t find it in myself to question why I’ve entered this place. I hum to myself to help control my fear. The hairs on my arms stand up and I turn a corner. There’s that black water like in Costa Rica and going through it looks like the only way to continue. I groan. “Ew. I guess I’m going to have to get wet.”

I stick my foot in and it doesn’t seem that deep, so I start to wade across. It seems to go on forever, and I’m almost to the other side when there’s nothing beneath my feet and I go under. I try to push to the surface but something drags me down. It’s so dark that I can’t see which direction I’m facing before I’m sucked into a tunnel. The current drags me down and down and my lungs feel like they’re going to explode. I break the surface and gasp, trying to inhale as much air as I can before I drag myself onto some rocks and cough. Oh god. My camera is tangled around my arm so I disentangle it and point it towards my face. “Okay that was stupid of me. Now I’m even more lost than I was and that water is _nasty!_. It tastes like natto! Would you believe Lara loves that stuff? Crazy isn’t it.”

The camera seems to be in good shape despite the dip in the water, so I pan it around me. I want an idea of where I am, and I’m almost ready to try walking again. “All right. Assuming my legs work we’re going to see where this goes. I don’t really have much of a choice anyway. So I guess...we’re going to follow this creepy corridor. With all the faces. Like that one there. He looks constipated.” 

Those damned faces again! Carved into the stones of the walls on both sides of me, and occasionally the ceiling right above. Costa Rica and Peru...and where else? Lara hasn’t found as much information about them as we would like. Clearly there’s a link, but thousands of miles apart? “They’re making fun of us. Don’t mind them.” I get a shot of me making the same face as one of the faces, before I continue on. That black water flows along either side of my path and I shudder. Just like before, I get this horrible feeling about that water. There’s something distinctly unnatural about it.

There’s maybe one or two faces for every twenty feet. The deeper I go the more grotesque and pained the expressions get. Like whatever waits at the end terrifies the stone, or is causing them pain. I’m trying to zoom on in one really pissed off looking face when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn, looking and panning the camera just in time for a figure to rise out of the water to my left.

Or maybe I should say that it formed itself _out of the water_. There’s a copy of me standing there and I shriek. My feet are rooted to the spot! The other Sam’s eyes are black and hollow, her mouth distorted in that freaky grin just like I’d seen on that fake Lara in the other temple. There are gaps in her face and pale skin with just the inky blackness in hollowed out places. It’s kind of like staring into the night sky of _terror_. I tear my eyes way just in time and the spell breaks. I’m rolling to the side just as that _thing_ lunges for me!

The way these things move is disjointed. Like they’re not quite used to walking on two feet. That’s advantage Sam, because I’m really good at moving on two feet, and you should hear Lara complain about how I can run on heels. I really want to hear Lara complain about how I run on heels so I need to get away from this thing, or at least get to a place with more room. 

It’s running behind me. I make the mistake of looking back and it’s mouth is open. Gaping wide with disgusting black spittle. It makes an unearthly hissing sound that turns my knees to jelly. I keep running, but I’m pretty sure I need to change my pants. 

The tunnel branches and to the left I can feel a hum of energy in the air. That’s the direction I pick. If it’s anything like the last place then I think I’ll be able to get to some high ground. I’ve got my copy nipping at my heels and we’re both moving too fast for me to risk some precious ammunition. I still have nightmares about shooting fake-Lara. I don’t want to add shooting myself to them too.

Okay, I’m going to have to, but I’ll worry about that when I’m able to. There’s a breeze coming from in front of me and I push my tired and sore legs harder. 

The tunnel opens up into a great domed chamber. There’s a smooth pillar at the center and the ground slopes gently towards it. Statues that look just like that stone man line a ledge all around, looking down like disapproving principles. There’s a soft glow at the top of the pillar. That’s where the skull is, I’d stake my camera on there being one! There’s no time to really scan the place or film it. My evil twin is already in the chamber with me and I’m backed up against the pillar.

I fumble for the gun at my waist. My fingers move by rote and I need to apologize to Lara for all the complaining I’ve done as she patiently made me do this kind of thing over and over, because I’m able to get the safety off and the gun pointed at my target before I even think about it. My hands are shaking. No one is going to save me but myself.

The twin takes a bullet in the chest, then another and another. I miss a few times and when I run out of ammo I drop the gun. Which is _stupid_. But the thing is teetering and bleeding a fine shadowy mist. It falls back and the mist flows gently down the incline to rest against the pillar.

I grab my camera and check the footage. It’s awkward, but it captured enough of it to make sense of. It’s better than people thinking I’m crazy. Who am I kidding? We’re both going to get looked at the same way Lara’s dad got looked at. I make a mental note to ask Lara about it. She always chafed to step away from her father’s nuttiness and make her own mark on the world as a legitimate archaeologist.

So naturally she stumbled onto weather goddesses and ancient rituals and now these skulls. That thrumming is loud in my ears. It wants me to find it. Now how the hell do I get up there? The pillar is smooth and black. Obsidian, maybe. Does this area even have obsidian? I don’t know, I’ll have to look it up, but I can’t exactly use the google right now. I miss the google.

The last time we’d found one of these places there had been kind of like a puzzle. It had required both of us to trigger the platform. God help me if this needs two people too. So I circle the thing, filming as I go, and then start investigating the outer edge of the chamber. There’s something odd about the stone in one spot, and I push it in. The pillar spins and lowers a little bit. The stone pushes back out and the pillar spins back to it’s normal height.

“Oh. Oh! You’re fucking kidding!” I see more of the stones. I push the button again and time how long it takes to reset. This is going to suck but I think I can do this. I walk back down the incline and position my camera, then I go back up to the button I’d found. I start by walking around, trying to make sure I can find all of them, pushing buttons as I go, but just walking isn’t fast enough. I return to the first one. I push the button and run, slapping my hand against each new button. It’s exciting! It’s also so terrifying that I want to question my sanity. The pillar rumbles and the stone grinds together as it lowers further with each button I hit. 

When I hit the last one, I sprint towards the pillar, and my prize. The energy in the air flows through me, and I feel a lot less exhausted as I clambor up onto the platform. It’s like I’m supercharged but I’m afraid to touch the thing with my bare hands. I wrap it in a cloth and stick it in my backpack, ignoring the shock that courses through me. No time for niceties, though I use the camera to record the markings on it’s alter. They’re almost exactly the same as the last time. Swirls of abstract red and white paint, and the longer I stay there the more aware I am of a feeling of joy. Like I did what it wanted. The last one had led Laura, and this one has led me. Creepy.

I look at the skull, peeking up out of my pack. It glows lightly from some kind of inner red light, but that fades, leaving behind something that looks like a skull shaped ruby. “So I’ve got you. Are you happy? Now we’ve just got to get out of here.”

It doesn’t respond and I’m almost surprised when it doesn’t. I feel drawn to it, like I had towards it’s brother. Or sister. There’s something familiar about it, something that reaches into me. I shake the feeling off. “I see you’re going to be a great conversationalist. That’s okay, I can totally carry on a conversation for both of us.”


	9. Promises, Promises

I’m probably the worse patient in the world. Just ask Sam since she took it upon herself to nurse me back to health. According to her, this involves a lot of massages and sponge baths. And even when I’m able to bathe on my own she ‘helps.’ I get a little snippy with her sometimes, but I feel bad about it almost as soon as the words leave my mouth.

And in all truth she’s being marvelous. I swear to god she bought out the entire history section of a bookstore, just to judge by the piles of books everywhere in our flat. She’s also hit up the mythology section which has actually been a great help.

The day that she’d left me in the rainforest in Peru had been one of the longest days of my life. I couldn’t sleep, or focus, and spent most of the time watching the trees for her return. It’s bad enough being scared for yourself, but when your other half is out there alone it’s so much worse.

But then she’d come, and I swear there’d been a halo of sunlight behind her. That or the painkillers had kicked in again. But she’d looked so beautiful, silhouetted by the sun, and the way her hair shone...well I’ve always had a thing for Sam’s hair. Help was coming, she’d said. _And guess what I found?_

That had been three months ago. According to the doctors, I am going to be off my feet for another two at least and I have the cast to prove it. Sam is puttering about in the kitchen, and I’m staring at the skulls on our coffee table. We usually keep them in a fire safe. It’s really a modified gun safe, but it’s fireproof. We have guns in there too finally, after months of red tape. Sam doesn’t like it, and on one level I don’t either, but they’re Roth’s and I feel better having them legally. I’m sure it’ll just add to the media speculation. That’s twice now I’ve led an expedition into disaster. I feel terrible about it as it is, there’s nothing they can say or do that I haven’t thought about or accused myself of. The Sun is the only one brazen enough to ask if I’m a murderer or just plain bad luck.

I can’t disagree with either idea.

The skull to the left is the first one we found. It looks more like a gemstone than bone or crystal, and has a faint blue hue to it. Sam tried to figure out what it was made from using some books she found, but we still haven’t a clue. I don’t want to damage it to take samples but I think it’s sapphire. I put my hand on it, and it’s warm to the touch. Whenever they’re out, there’s a vibration in the air, an audible thrum.

To it’s right is the skull from Peru. This one is looks like it’s made of ruby. It seems that the so-called crystal skulls are more like gems than crystal. But there are still others to find and maybe one of those is an actual crystal. I rest my other hand on that second one. It’s colder. Both throb, and it might be a trick of my eyes but they’re glowing. I pull my hands away and look up at the big map of dig sites and sigh. I have the distinct impression of being watched. 

“You know, Sam, we really need to avoid getting injured or distracted. We’ll be old ladies by the time we find the rest of them.” I look up at her as she takes a seat next to me, holding two plates of eggs. I take mine eagerly. “Most of these are probably dead ends anyway.”

“Is the great Lara Croft getting impatient?” She pokes her fork into the meal and digs in. I take my revenge by swiveling around until I can rest my cast on her lap. Sam simply uses it like a tray for her breakfast.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie. They’ve been there for how many thousands of years? They can wait a few more months. You’ve got that lecture coming up, remember?”

A grimace crosses my face. “We’re driving each other bonkers and don’t remind me. I’m not even close to being prepared!”

“It’s my job to remind you, as your sexratary.”

“....What?”

She produces glasses from _somewhere_ and puts them on, then pulls her hair back into an office-style bun. In the most serious of voices she says, “I’m there to manage your professional career, film every last second of your life, and bang you like we’re lesbian bunnies. Sexratary.”

Bursting into laughter, I nearly upend my eggs. I save them, and shake my head at her big grin. “I won’t be having my way with you on the desk for awhile yet, Sam. Don’t get your hopes up.” The idea sounds really appealing though. I’ve caught her ordering some rather naughty things lately, but I’ll just have to nervously wait for her to reveal what she’s up to. My tastes have expanded greatly since we’ve gotten together, but it’s not entirely her influence, Probably.

“Promises, promises,” she says, waggling her fork at me. “And you’re not driving me crazy. You’re annoyed, and you have cabin fever. I know you’ve just been grouchy. For the past month or three.”

I feel horrible and look at her with the most apologetic expression I can manage. “I have not been that bad, have I?”

“Yes.” She takes a few more bites, and swallows before continuing. “We’re going to spend a week out doing stuff when you can walk better, but for now we’re going to go somewhere, and you’re going to suck it up.”

Sam is telling me to suck it up and try to have fun. I make a face.

She points her fork at me. “GRUMP!”

I play along, crossing my fork with hers like a little sword. “You can’t _force_ me to have _fun_ , Sam!”

“I can’t?” She parries my strike, and we forget about food or the skulls on the table and just have a little sword fight with our forks until my throat is hoarse from laughter and Sam has me pinned beneath her. She covers the skulls with her shirt so they don’t have to watch us, and I’m _profoundly_ grateful for that, and not just because of the view I suddenly have.

“Sam…” I gasp her name as her hands push my shirt up. Her fingers are like little sparks of lightning against my skin. “I’m sorry I’ve been so terrible.” Her lips silence any further apologies from me while her fingers make me speak without words.

True to her word, Sam drags me out the next day. I suck it up and hobble along behind her on my crutches. I thought at first she is just going to drag me _shopping_ of all things, but she leads me to a park instead.

“I thought you could use some outdoors. I’ve got some other plans later, but it’s so nice out.” She takes my hand and rests it in her lap as we sit on a bench. A family of ducks waddle past and the scene is so serenely relaxing that I feel the tension ebb out of my shoulders. I put my arm around her, and don’t care if anyone sees. She smiles brilliantly and threads her fingers into mine and we sit there in comfortable silence for awhile.

Across the way there’s another couple. They’re elderly, leaning shoulder to shoulder, looking about as content as I feel. Sam must have picked up on it, because her voice startles me out of my thoughts. “Do you think that’ll be us in fifty years?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

“Promises, promises,” she murmurs, and I smile, touching her cheek with mine.

“A promise, yes.” I always keep my promises.

I think we’re there for another hour or so. I’m loathe to move. We’re not silent, though. We talk about the people we see, about the work she’s been doing editing our adventures in Peru and about some of the places I want to study next, but mostly we make plans. Plans for after I’m better, plans that have nothing to do with crystal skulls. We want a bigger place (and the mansion is out), which means I’m going to need to start doing more to earn my keep though Sam insists she can cover it. She silences me with a look. Fine. Right now it’s not as if I can work, though I can bring in some money with lectures. Assuming I don’t make a fool of myself.

There’s a good chance I’m gonna make a fool of myself.

Sam eventually gets up and helps me to my feet. “Operation Cure Cabin Fever is now entering it’s second phase!”

“If you say dancing I’m going to shank you,” I reply dryly. She just grins at me and hails a cab. For both our sakes she isn’t allowed to drive.

It isn’t even that she’s bad, just terrifying. At least on English roads. I obviously can’t drive, so the cab is our only solution. She starts to help me into the taxi, but I give her a pleading look and she backs off. I need to do this myself. It takes me a bit, but I get in. She grabs my crutches and slides them in over our laps after she follows me in. I put my hand over hers. “So where are we going, then?”

She gives me a grumpy look. “Well if you’re going to be a meanie butt maybe we should just go home.”

“Sam…” I try to give her my best pout. I think she’s just playing around, and she lasts about three more seconds before her face lightens and proves me right. “That’s more like it.”

“The suffering I endure, dating an independent woman,” Sam replies, putting her hand to her forehead in mock drama. She opens one eye and looks at me. We both giggle like idiots. Sam had been right that I’d needed this, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of telling her that. Really, I want to kiss her. I settle for a peck on the cheek, and lean my face against hers.

“The fact that you put up with me makes you a saint,” I tell her, letting her laugh warm my insides. 

“I could say the same about you. I keep worrying I’ll somehow scare you away by just…”

“By being you, you mean? The same you you’ve been since we were barely in training bras?”

Sam pokes one of my breasts. “You mean since _you_ were in a training bra. I was a late bloomer.”

“You bloomed, Sam.” Oh how I’d noticed. My face is turning red and Sam has this triumphant little smile on her face. It shuts me right up. 

“I dunno. Dating someone is different from being friends,” she continues. I wait for her to go on. “There’s different expectations. And I don’t even mean just sex, though obviously that’s important. It’s me, duh. But...there are things you can do and say to a friend that you can’t to a lover.”

“Why not?” I sit up straighter and look hard at her. There’s fluttering in my stomach from nerves, because I don’t know what she’s getting at and it’s making me _anxious_. I don’t like feeling anxious around Sam. “Sam you know you can tell me anything. And everything. Nothing has changed.”

“ _Everything has changed!_ ” She looks at me like she can’t believe I don’t get it, and I wonder if I’ve been living in some kind of blind haze. “You’ve changed, I’ve changed...our friends think we’re _freaks._ I tried to go clubbing the other night, because you told me I should get out, and I…”

I got it, then. I got what she was saying so I put my arms around her and pulled her close. “Shh… Sam...We’ve changed, yes. But you haven’t really dealt… I should have helped you through it. After what you had to do.”

“I didn’t want you to. I thought I could handle it, and you’ve been recovering and it wasn’t fair of me since I wasn’t hurt.”

“Mental issues and PTSD are every bit as valid as a broken leg, Sam. Look at me.” I turn her head towards me. “You suffered every bit as much as I did. And you know I understand. It was the one thing I couldn’t lean on you for, but you can lean on me and I’m here. I’ll always be here. Please lean on me.”

“Until you aren’t there.” Sam looks away again, and I let her. She doesn’t pull away at least, and I don’t let go of her. “And when you aren’t I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe, I just lay in bed thinking about it all night. And that’s selfish of me.”

“It wasn’t your fault. And it’s not selfish, it’s natural.”

“It never gets better, does it?”

“It does. Eventually. Especially as time goes on. Our lives might be marked by tragedy and survival, but…” I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Getting through this, getting _past_ this is surviving too. Don’t let him win.”

The cab stops a moment later, and I look out to see where Sam had taken us. The London Eye rises up over the Thames and I smile. It’s an awfully sweet gesture on Sam’s part, and we get out of the car - her quickly, me much more slowly. 

When she looks at me again she has a smile on her face, and I search her eyes. It’s there, but not as strongly as usual. “Sam, we-”

“Not now. We’ll talk on the wheel.”

She starts towards it and I follow her, grateful she’s willing to talk. When our positions had been reversed it had taken me longer. If this is how I’ve made her feel I feel terrible. I guess I deserve it.

There’s a hesitation when we get onto the wheel. She usually grabs my hand first, so I wait for that, then I think that maybe she wants me to move first. So I take her hand when we sit.

“It’ll get better, Sam. You have to trust me.” Just trying to convince her of that makes me believe it in myself. I hope she notices the change. 

“Promises, promises, Lara.” Her hand squeezes mine, and I squeeze it back and feel this fire burning in me. That’s been her favorite word all night. Promises. 

The words spill out without any filter. “It does. You don’t notice it at first because you’re wallowing in your own self-pity, but one day you wake up and you realize that none of it hurts as much. The nightmares aren’t as frequent, the city doesn’t feel as constraining, and your hands feel clean of the blood. You have a career that you love, a person that you’d trade the world for and that yes, you deserve to live and be happy.”

“God, sweetie…” She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. I feel her lips, soft and warm against my ear. “That’s called an epiphany!”

“It’s supposed to be one for you, not for me!” I fight down the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks. I don’t let her pull away. Her lips curve up against my skin, and I can feel it like a change in the air. Whatever morose mood has overcome her has lifted. I resolve to keep an eye out for this in the future. “We have to promise each other something, Sam. We talk, we communicate. We don’t keep anything buried inside. Even if it hurts us, even if we yell at each other or fight.”

It’s a promise we’ve usually tried to keep to anyway, but sometimes...sometimes you need to hear it in words.

“Okay.”

We’re out for several more hours before we head home. We don’t talk about killing or death, though I listen intently as she talks about some advance in camera technology that I can’t wrap my head around. I suspect that this time next week she’ll have that new camera and be filming every moment of my life with it. Right now, I don’t think I’ll mind it. 

When we get through the door I tug Sam into the bedroom. The lead always changes, but we always dance to the same wonderful music.


	10. Open Wounds

After Lara’s little epiphany, the air feels clearer. It’s hard to really explain the effect it has on me. As much as she’s told me that it gets better and she got over it, I can see that she wasn’t telling me the full truth. And when she realizes it, it makes me feel a lot better about the way things are going.

That wasn’t the last talk we had about it. Neither of us want to go anywhere near a shrink. Jonah even recommended a good one a year ago but we ignored it. Since we’re both too stubborn to get professional help we muddle through it together. It doesn’t always end well. Like any couple we fight. The worse ones aren’t about money - we had those epic battles years ago, long before Yamatai. It’s usually something stupid. Once I swore I wouldn’t talk to her for a week. I lasted about six hours before I gave in. Which broke my five hour record from our University days (over some guy, if I remember correctly). Go me. 

Here’s the crazy thing. When we have the really bad ones, the air feels so _charged_. I think it has to do with those skulls. They’re alive somehow. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but like they feed off of our emotions or something. When we fight and then make up it’s so _intense_. But everything Lara does is intense so I don’t think it’s just that. I just think I can _feel_ them better than she can. That’s crazy. But it’s true. 

God, I have this terrible thought that the only reason we’re together is because of the influence of those things. I don’t know if I should or not, but I have to tell Lara. I promised I’d talk, right? Lara always keeps her promises, so I can too. 

Lara is massaging her leg when I come into the living room. She’s been out of the cast for two weeks, and the physical therapy has been a pain. She’s not ready to go dancing, let alone tramping after artifacts, but she’s making an effort to be patient and almost succeeding. I forget what I’m trying to do as I stand there and watch her. Watching Lara is something I’ve perfected over the years and I always get a little buzz when I can watch without hiding it. 

She looks up and smiles at me. “Morning, hon. What are your plans today?”

Oh. Right. I switch to serious face and lean over the couch to kiss her. “We need to lock those skulls away somewhere else.”

“What? Why?” She stops working at her leg so I move around to take over for her. “I’m still studying them, Sam. They’re safe right where they are.”

“No, no! Lara, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way the air gets charged whenever we’re… doing anything really emotional. Like a fight, or when we’re screwing, or when you look at me like you want to wrap me up and put me in a safe or something. Or when I kick your butt on the PS3. Or when we watched that movie with the robots and the dude from Sons of Anarchy. Those things are _feeding_ on our emotions! Or maybe they’re pushing us.”

She opens her mouth and I expect her to tell me I’m crazy, but she closes it and looks surprised, like she had expected herself to say that too. “I don’t know...My feelings didn’t just suddenly materialize out of thin air after you pulled me out of that cave. I crushed on you for _years_ , Sam.”

I seize on my opportunity. She’s seriously considering the idea. I move up her body and straddle her. “I believe you! But lets lock them in a safety deposit box, move them to a safe at your parents’ place. Don’t you practically have a vault there? I mean, they creep me out.”

It’s the wrong thing to say and I know it as soon as I say it, so I pin her down by the shoulders before she can dislodge me.

“Get off of me, Sam, I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

‘That place’. Like it somehow wasn’t her home as a child. At least she _had_ one. I still don’t know what nationality I should consider myself. British at this point, I guess. “Lara! What if there’s something there that might help us figure them out? And what other place could be _safer_ for them?” I feel a little heady. “Please. _Please_. I’ll even make you a deal.”

She has her hands on my waist, and I know she intends to try to dislodge me again, but she stops and looks at me. “What kind of deal?”

Lara is way overdue to actually face this part of her past, and well… so am I. “I’ll try to mend fences with my parents if you face your own ghosts.”

At that, quicker than lightning I’m on my back on the couch and watching Lara’s butt move away from me. I roll to my feet and chase after her. “Damn it, Lara! Please. Do this for me. _Please._ ” I follow her into the bedroom. “Can’t you feel this? It’s-”

I’m muffled as she suddenly pushes me against the wall, her lips crushing mine and all sense flooding out of my head. My feet dangle helplessly as she tries to devour my mouth with hers. Just as quickly, she lets me down and steps back. Her eyes are dark and hooded. It’s like Sam bait, and I blink my eyes to restore my focus as she talks. Her voice is low and gravelly. “ _No_ artifact makes me feel this way about you, Sam. It doesn’t make me want you any more, or any less.”

“We’re going out for dinner,” I say, suddenly. I feel like I have something to prove but I don’t know what it is. Except if I stare into her eyes any longer I’m going to melt into a puddle and we’ll go nowhere. I need to look away from the power behind her gaze. “Clear our heads, dress up. We’re overdue our date night anyway.”

She looks at me for a moment. The way her eyes look over me makes me feel like I’m stripped bare. “... after dinner, I’ll make some calls. We’ll bring the artifacts to the manor..”

I throw myself at her and we careen onto the bed, hugging each other so tight that air becomes a serious problem. “Thank you, Lara!”

Her face burrows into my neck and her voice is muffled. “You loved me before, right?”

“From the moment I first heard your voice,” I promise her, the vulnerability in her tone making my chest clench up. “I was like, ‘who is that and why is she so sexy? Why is that sexy? I need to evaluate my life choices, I wasn’t aware that was even an option!’”

We don’t actually get up for about three hours. We don’t snog or get hot and heavy. Or make love like Lara likes to say sometimes. I tease her endlessly about that but it’s adorable. Making love. No one but her has _ever_ done that to me, and the most amazing thing is that’s exactly what it is. When I’m in her arms and everything inside me is coiled up about burst, she locks her eyes with me and I get lost in them. It’s the most intense sex of my _life_. There’s plenty of times where we’re silly or light or quick or whatever, but I really like it when she’s intense. Tonight though, we just lay there and hold each other. I think we nap a little. No talking, this is snuggle time, and snuggle time is very important. I’m really content with snuggle time.

It’s hunger that finally gets us out of bed, and Lara takes a shower first, claiming I’ll just use all the hot water if she doesn’t. Which is true.

I use the chance to pick out something to wear, which contrary to popular belief doesn’t always take me an eternity. I have just the thing, and it’s the shoes I’m trying to decide on when she finishes. 

“The silver, strappy ones,” she says. I set them aside and look up at her. My mouth drops open. I’ll never tire of the site of Lara naked. She has her arms up, toweling her hair off and I’m afforded a view of every curve, every scar and every droplet of water trailing down toned abs. I want to lick every inch of her. 

Predictably, she blushes and it takes all my willpower to not jump her then and there. I settle for a long kiss, then bound into the bathroom to shower too. It’s okay, though. I get her back when I’m done. She’s in the middle of fussing with her shoes when I come in and her eyes follow me as I dry off and dress, taking every care in the world to show her _everything_. Revenge is very sweet, and it feels so good to be appreciated. Her gaze is unlike any of the guys or girls I’ve been with before. It’s not just lust. It’s lust and adoration and affection. 

I quickly dress before I get too emotional to put makeup on.

I feel her behind me, and lean back as her arms circle my waist. I’m almost done, but her breath is hot in my ear. “Sam, I already called for a taxi, you probably have twenty minutes to get ready.”

“I’ll be able to get ready if you can keep your grubby paws off of me.”

I laugh when she gropes me, then squirm out of her grip. “Shoo! I banish thee to the living room!”

Lara lets out a slow, melodramatic Vader ‘no’ as she backs out of the room. Silly Lara is best Lara. I join her in the living room and stare at her good and hard. She’s wearing an aquamarine dress blouse and neat black slacks. It’s _sexy_. We’re going to be so hot together and I’m glad I picked a dress that goes with black and blue. “...how long until the cab again?”

“It just arrived.” She grins at me and I put on a pout, before grabbing her hand and dragging _her_ down the stairs. It’s so hard to keep my hands to myself in the cab but I succeed, mostly. There’s this spot on Lara’s knee that I keep stroking because I know what it does to her and she’s flustered by the time we make it to the restaurant. I’d let Lara pick it and it isn’t incredibly pricey though I am pleased to notice that it is still really, really nice. I’m totally proud of her.

“I hope they’re serving fish,” I say, watching her reaction closely. “I have a craving.”

“I’m sure they do,” she says, obliviously. She doesn’t get why I’m grinning at her, but I let it pass. She actually figures it out about the time we sit down and order some wine, and coughs. My toes trailing along her shin probably don’t help with that. She doubles down, though, and the next thing I know, I feel her foot rubbing against the side of my knee. When did her legs get that long?

She withdraws her foot when I blush, and I glare at her for taking the foot away. I’m feeling a little silly myself today, so the glare doesn’t last long. “So have you thought about the book offer?”

Lara got an offer a few weeks ago to produce a book based on our experiences on Yamatai. She’s naturally reluctant, but I think writing it might do her a world of good. And since she’s always so keen on earning her keep, the money from it might be useful. She’s been on the occasional lecture, but mostly just tending bars again since we got back from Peru.

“It might be good for you. It’s been long enough, hasn’t it?” I still have nightmares, I can still feel Himiko trying to claw her way into me but that happens once, maybe twice a month now. I’m healing. I want her to heal, too.

“I’ve drafted the introduction,” she admits. I’m surprised, and sit up straighter. “I wanted to be very clear on what that place did to us. The level of madness inflicted on and by the people who washed up on Yamatai’s shores. _Someone_ has to tell that story, and it should be me. It won’t shut up all the speculation, but it’ll help.”

She looks and sounds reluctant, and I reach across the table to take her hand. “We can talk about something else.”

“It’s all right, Sam. I don’t really feel...anything about it any more. It’s more of a dull ache, now.” I search her eyes, and I don’t think she’s lying.

“Yeah, I don’t see that killer in your eyes when we talk about Yamatai anymore.”

Lara’s eyes widen, and she’s already on her feet and rushing to the bathroom by the time I realize how she might take it. “Lara!”

I chase after her and find her in the ladies room. It’s really not like Lara to run from something. I must have hit a nerve or something. She’s hunched over the sink, and I approach cautiously.”

“Lara, I didn’t mean-” She turns around and glares hurtfully at me. I hold up my hands. “We both know what you did on that island. I know a lot better what that means now. It doesn’t mean you’re any less my best friend and soul mate. It just means there’s an edge to you, and it’s dulled now. You’re not _innocent_.”

“What am I then? You’re right. I’m a killer. I’m not really human any more. God, I...”

“You _are_ human.” My voice cracks. Her tone is so harsh that I realize that the nerve I hit on is one that has been festering for a long time. I touch her, and she jerks away, so I grab her arm and then pull it around me. “I love you, nothing changes that, nothing will ever change that. I’m a killer too. Do you think there’s no hope for me?”

She looks sharply at me, “Of course there’s hope for you.”

“Then there’s hope for _you_.”

“Sam, I killed _dozens_ of men. All to survive, all to get to you and protect you and Reyes and Jonah and Alex and… I failed some of you. It wasn’t enough to save everyone.” I bring my hands to her face as she speaks.

“Saving one innocent person should be enough,right? Those men were crazed. They’d lost any shred of humanity they had left, it was a _mercy_.” 

Lara’s eyes close, and she sags against me a little. I pet her face and keep talking. “I’m sorry I said that, I’m sorry it hurt you. I’m….you don’t have to forgive me.”

“I forgive you, Sam.” There’s a quiver in her voice. “ I don’t even know why it hit me like that, I honestly didn’t think I thought about it that much. Digging up the memories for that book, months of inactivity...maybe it just...was the last crack that broke me. ”

She isn’t broken. I kiss her to prove that and because I’m being a dumbass with words tonight. It doesn’t take long before she’s kissing me back. Her cheeks are wet. I hug her so tightly, then guide her into a stall. I want to heal her, and salve over the wounds I’ve caused. I feel her hands on me, pulling my dress up, and I smile against her lips.


	11. Close Calls

_**Lara** _

Sam doesn’t mean it. I know she doesn’t but it hurts all the same. I can’t deny that I’m a killer, and that I’m very, very good at it, but she’s very convincing and gets me down out of my tree. How could I not forgive her? But I’m still unhappy. One of us takes advantage of the other or maybe it might be both of us, but I feel a little dirty as we fix ourselves in the mirror.

I lean on the sink and look at myself in the mirror. “Sam…? What just happened.”

She pauses in fixing her make-up and looks at me. “We made love, sweetie. You see, when a bird and a bee have the hots for each other…”

“That’s not what I mean!” God, what’s wrong with me? I’m snapping at her, but I can’t help it. It’s been bothering me for awhile now and I have a chance to say something, so I’m saying something. Which isn’t the most reasonable thing in the world but there you have it. “We can’t fix every argument with sex!”

Sam takes a step back, looking like I’d just slapped her. “That’s not… Lara!” Her hurt turns into anger and she _slaps_ me. “That’s not _fair!_. That’s not fair at all!”

I bring my hand to my face and stare at her. I actually deserve that slap but it pisses me off too. I start to speak but she shushes me. 

“No. No, I’m speaking, you don’t get to speak! No way! I didn’t even start it this time!” Sam’s shouting and I cringe because we’re making a scene and when I try to shush her she smacks my hands. “And we don’t always ‘fix it with sex.’ It’s always fixed with talking! So what if we do it after?! _That’s what couples do!_ ” 

“Sam, I-” I’ve stepped in it and I’m suddenly less angry and a lot more freaked out and guilty.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Lara. Good luck fucking your way out of this one.” And just like that she’s gone. I’m shaking, in anger and shock and with this wrenching feeling in my stomach. I’ve never seen her look so hurt, and I don’t know why I even said any of that. I try to calm myself, and ignore the stares as I make my way back to our table. Sam isn’t there, and she’s already paid. Of course.

I rush to the front and look around, but she’s nowhere in sight, so I pull out my phone and call her. “Sam? Pick up!” It goes to voicemail. “Sam, I’m sorry. Please pick up. _Please_. I’m a total idiot. I just want us to be more than sex. It’s not that I don’t want you or want to be with you or…” I can’t control my voice any longer. I don’t cry. Not in public, but I’m very close to it. God we’ve already broken our ‘talk about it’ promise.

I should have realized this is a touchy subject with Sam. She’s never had a relationship last this long and sex has always been a huge part of her life. I call her again, and tell her again I’m a git and I’m sorry. We’ve spent way too much time apologizing to each other today. I wait for a cab and try to source where these feelings have come from. Why I’ve reacted like this. It can’t just be that I feel like we’re just shagging. I _know_ we are more than that. My own temper pretty much putters out in the face of Sam’s hurt. 

The night went to hell right around the time we started talking about that damned book. It stirs up a lot of old, painful feelings, and some newer ones, too. Sam wouldn’t have had to kill someone if she hadn’t been out there with me. But I’d also probably be dead without her. I hate this feeling. As quickly as it had come my irritation and anger have abated. I can’t go around blaming other things for my mistakes. We’ve both said hurtful things. Mine was worse. I can’t let this fester.

Me and relationships are a bad mix. I need to fix this. I can’t just bribe her with new camera equipment, that’s actually worse than what I’ve accused her of doing. Flowers and chocolates can work as a peace offering, so I have my cab stop at a shop so I can pick some up. Her favorite kind, of course. They have little almonds in them.

I get back in the cab and try calling Sam again. This time it goes right to voicemail. I frown, worried. I know she doesn’t want to talk to me but I hope she listens to the voicemail. I sound pathetic but Sam is worth sounding pathetic. My mind gets filled with all kinds of scenarios. Catching her packing. Catching her already _gone_. Out of my life forever because I acted like an insecure asshole. I’m being irrational and panicking, but I literally try to imagine her being gone and simply can’t accept it. Sam is my family, she’s the only family I _have_. I can fix this. I just need to calm down, and hope Sam has calmed down too so we can talk like adults.

None of the scenarios come close to what I actually see when we get close to the flat. Flickering flame casting everything in hues of orange and red. I don’t even think twice as I rush up the stairs. What happened while I was dawdling around picking up _flowers_?!

_**Sam** _

I can’t believe that woman. I just can’t believe her! And the worst part of it is once Lara says it it worms its way into my thoughts where it plays on infinite loop and I go back over every fight or every hurt to see if she was right. I like sex. I’ve never been ashamed of it, and it’s one of the ways I can feel clos to her that no one else can share.

I’m raging in my cab, balling and unballing my fists and okay I’m crying too but it _hurts_. I hate her. I fucking hate her right now. She hit on my biggest insecurity and she hadn’t even been _trying_. That’s Lara though. There’s no one else on the planet who could lay me out the way she can with a single sentence. I hear my phone ring, but I’m too upset to answer. After the fourth time I just turn my cell phone off. I don’t want to talk to her right now. I’ll say something I’ll regret later.

Somehow I make it up the stairs and into the apartment. My makeup is ruined, and I probably look like I just had my heart broken, which is close if you think about it. I go into the bathroom to clean up my face and then change into sweat pants and a tank top. It’s one of Lara’s tank tops, actually, and I glare at it before putting it on. Like that could convey my displeasure with the woman. I could rip it up or something but that would accomplish nothing. I’m still going to wear it. Where had that come from? Weren’t we supposed to talk about shit before it got this bad? 

“It’s not just sex!” I kick the couch before flopping onto it, then rub my toes “This sucks!” I’m talking to no one but myself, but I feel as though something responds. “I can’t help who I am! Is that it? She never wanted me to change before! Or is she afraid? I don’t want to have _less_. I want...I like it the way it is…” Oh my god I’m hugging the couch cushion. I’m sixteen again. All I need is some Häagen-Dazs and a sappy movie and I’ll have the grand trifecta of sad and pathetic. I fling the pillow across the room and look out the window. 

Here I am, upset at her and I’m already worried where she is. She’s fine. I need to calm down. She’ll be home soon and I don’t want to be screaming at her. I feel oddly at ease as I walk into the kitchen to get a drink. I start boiling some water for mac and cheese, too, since I hadn’t eaten. I’m not going to share with Lara, either. Bitch can get her own mac and cheese. I start to go through what I want to say when she comes home. Tell her why it hurt so much. Just because I’m carefree and physical doesn’t mean I don’t have issues. I pat myself on the back for being rational and hope that translates to being rational and calm later. 

There’s a faint buzzing in the air and I find myself drawn to the safe in the bedroom. I pick up her jade pendant as I pass it, and stroke it with one hand while I open the safe by rote. I look at the skulls inside. “Maybe it’s all your guys’ fault.” They stare back at me impassionately, and provide no answers. That was stupid. It’s not right to blame everything on them. Lara and I both had our mistakes today. 

Hanging my head, I move to close the safe when I hear glass breaking in the living room. The buzzing in the air intensifies and I grab both artifacts and throw them into a pillow case. I don’t know what possesses me but I open the window and put it on the fire escape. It’s like they’re talking to me in a way that only I can understand. It’s not the first time I feel this tightness in my chest, but it’s the first time I realize it’s the skulls doing it. It reminds me of _her_.

I grab my purse and listen at the door. I can hear two men talking. I ignore a surge of panic and rush back to the safe. Roth’s - our pistols are still in there. I grab both of them and load one. My hands are shaking. This is different from the jungle. This is our home, and I’m alone again. Guess I really do have to learn not to rely on Lara. Which is good I guess, but this feels different from Victor.

The last thing I want is for her to come home and find me dead, or worse. Especially after a fight. If it was me I’d never forgive myself. One of the guys starts to open the door to our room so I throw my shoulder against it and manage to slam it on his fingers. He’s pissed, which gives me an advantage, right? If I’m thinking clearly and he’s not? I hear him kicking at the door and back away. I should go out through the window, but I don’t have time to decide before he’s in. I start shooting, and he makes a sound so maybe I hit him but now he’s between me and the window. I charge past him and into the hallway. There’s his buddy and I dive low, tackling his legs and then kick up off the ground to run for the front door.

He grabs my leg and I crash onto the coffee table. I roll off of it and try to aim at him. For only the second time in my life I’m shot and this hurts a hundred times more than the last time. I should really just fold over and give up but I don’t. I dig deep inside myself and run into the kitchen. He shoots at me again. My mac and cheese has burned and when I duck out of the way he shoots up the stove. Flames explode up to the ceiling and my shirt catches fire as I’m knocked into the counter. I pat it out with a dish towel as I run back towards the bedroom. His partner is trying to get up and I kick him in the face, then slam the door behind me and try to barricade it. I shove over a bookshelf, then push the bed against it.

Smoke is starting to drift in and I don’t think I have much time. I grab a backpack and stuff everything I can think of into it. Some clothes and money, my wallet and our passports. Our laptops, as well as as many of Lara’s notes as I can find. I grab her father’s notebook too. Of all the things in this apartment that I can’t buy a replacement of, that’s the number one thing. I also grab my camera bag, with all my SD cards. I need to get out of here but I’m not going to leave my camera behind! Priorities right?

There’s only one more thing I can think of to grab, and that’s a photo album under the bed. I probably shouldn’t waste the time or the space, but there are pictures we have that we took the old fashioned way and you can’t buy those things. Nearly everything else in the apartment can be bought again, but the memories and Lara’s research can’t be. My arm aches as I pull it out and throw it into the backpack. The entire time it’s like a timer is running out in my mind, like those time bombs in old movies. 

It takes almost too long, because I’m hauling ass out of the window when those men break down the door. Smoke billows into the room and I feel a bullet graze my leg as I tumble onto the fire escape. The pillowcase with the skulls is still there. Good, this is good. I’ll have a mental breakdown later, but at least I’m holding it together. Right now I have to get down before they can catch me.

They’re close on my heels by the time I make it to the ground floor, but even with two overloaded packs I’m a lot faster than them. I take a corner and put more distance between us, breaking into a sprint and running like the devil himself is chasing me. When I finally look back, they’re gone. I slow my pace and lean against a wall. I’m winded, my throat burns and my arm would feel better if I cut it off right now but I’m alive.

I pull my purse out of the pack and search for my phone. I need to call Lara and warn her away from our apartment, but that’s not going to happen. There’s a bullet in it.


	12. Hidden Histories

“Sam! SAM!” I shout her name as I push the door open. Fire is everywhere and I can’t see for all the smoke. She doesn’t answer and it looks like there’s been a fight. There’s no way the fire caused that much damage to the coffee table. Or to the door to the bedroom. I feel panic in my stomach. “Oh god…”

Coughing, I check everywhere I can for Sam. Thank god, she’s not here. The fire is spreading fast. I rip the world map down from the wall and shove as much as I can from my desk into a shopping bag. There’s a lot of notes missing, though and the safe is open in the bedroom and completely empty. Either we’ve been robbed or Sam emptied it. I don’t see my father’s journal anywhere either. Hoping it was Sam and not anyone else, I flee the flat and make my way down the stairs. I slide to the ground and look up at what’s left of our home. I feel...incredibly vulnerable right now. It’s a really crappy way to end an already emotional day and looking at the flame blackening the flat I almost feel like I’m staring at the ashes of our lives. Numbly, I call Sam again.

It still goes to voicemail and I have to resist the urge to throw it against the wall. Fuck. Just fucking great. I get up and pace, waiting for the firefighters to arrive, and the police. Things can be bought again and memories you always have in your heart. Even research can be done again and god knows I enjoy that enough. But if Sam is hurt…

If Sam is hurt there is going to be hell to pay for whoever did this. I don’t care how or how long or what I have to do. I am going to find Sam and make it all up to her. When the police arrive, there are a million questions I have to answer, and the only thing I know is Sam went home, when I came home she was gone and there were signs of a struggle. And the fire, of course. I think I’m pretty good at convincing them our fight had nothing to do with this. It’s not in Sam’s nature to go around torching perfectly good flats over a disagreement. The police promise to file a report on her, and I’m left alone. I give them the address of the family manor and my phone number.

I have no leads and Sam still isn’t picking up. Its nearly one in the morning by the time I step out of a taxi and walk up the long, lonely drive to my childhood home. It’s an imposing structure, far larger than any one person could ever need. Or larger than any family should really need. I don’t know if my resentment of the property stems from my issues with my parents, or from spending so many years living paycheck to paycheck like the vast majority of people do. Probably a little bit of both. I definitely don’t regret that decision, even now. Whatever kind of person I’d have been otherwise, I like who I became. I like who I am. Even with the killer instincts.

My key still works even though I haven’t been here in years. There are people who come around from time to time to upkeep the place so it’s relatively clean and secure. Winston probably. I haven’t spoken more than a few sentences to him since shortly after Yamatai. 

I punch in the security code and go inside, locking the door and reactivating the alarm. There’s no one here. I make a thorough sweep of the place while constantly calling Sam. I’m alone and Sam still isn’t answering. I have all kinds of visions of her hurt and bleeding or worse. It isn’t doing me any good to think about these things. There’s no food and it’s too late for take out so I trudge upstairs and find my own room. The master bedroom is mine now, but I eschew it for my old one. 

It hasn’t changed much. There’s still the old globe and the brass sextant on the dresser, and the maps and paintings covering every inch of every wall. 

I leave a message for the family lawyer, and then fall face first into bed. Green velveteen ears peek out from under the comforter and my fingers worry at the fabric as I pull the old rabbit out. I hug it to my chest and think of Sam. I can’t do anything for her right now and it pisses me off.

My sleep is filled with nightmares of the worse sort. Horrible things happening to Sam or being back on Yamatai. Being back in the jungle with that stone man. There are some good things, too. Roth’s arms strong and warm around me. My mother’s face, tired but happy. Seeing my father again.

It’s that dream that I wake up from, groggy and unable to remember what he’d been telling me. It’s there, on the edge of my consciousness but I can’t quite pin it down. Yesterday floods back to me and I race to pick up my phone. Only a call from the lawyer. Nothing from Sam. No new messages and my email keeps asking for my password. None of the usual ones are working. I request a reset, then I order delivery for breakfast. Sam would have been able to figure out my email. Sam...

The conversation with my lawyer is short and a little bittersweet on my part. I let him know what happened, and he pushes me to start the paperwork on the fortune and the titles and everything that comes with it. I think about Sam and her issues with her family. She lashes out for attention with her fortune, and I run from mine. I tell him I’ll think about it. That’s a win for him and he knows it. But I’m going to need some of it to deal with the losses and the damages, and I’m going to need some of it to find Sam. And to find out who trashed our flat before it went up in smoke. It is, I reason with myself, a good enough reason to go back on my word. I’ve proven I have the chops without it. 

Still, it gives me an awful gnawing in my gut. I never wanted to have to rely on it. It feels like cheating, but for Sam, I’d cheat. 

While waiting for my food to arrive, I take stock of the manor. There are too many rooms with too many things, but I know exactly where to focus my attention on. My father’s study and the family vault are near the top of this list, but the library is a close third. It’s closer to my bedroom so I start there. I take index of every book that might talk about the crystal skulls or links between them and the ancient cultures of Central and South America. Then I start looking for links to other parts of the world. I have the map I recovered, marked with each location that I’ve researched. I move to the study and hang it up there, then look through my father’s things. I’ve only been in here twice since he disappeared. 

I’m sitting in the chair, a bowl of thai food on the desk as I swivel to and fro, studying the room and trying to think like my father. He loved riddles and puns and plays on words. So if I were him, and I had notes on things that might put the fear of god in mortal men, where would I hide them? 

_These hidden histories mean the world to me, Lara._.

My eyes fall onto an ornate globe. Why not? I walk over to it and inspect it. It’s large and intricate but there’s a seam around the equator, so I feel around until I find a spot that’s a little bit looser, with a wider gap than elsewhere. The globe separates with some effort, and I’m rewarded with a tightly wrapped stack of handwritten notes.

“Ah hah!” I hold them aloft in more triumph than they could possibly warrant. But whatever happened last night has something to do with the artifacts, I’m sure of it. And maybe there’s something in here that might help. It’s better than doing nothing, so I start sorting through the notes. I glance at my phone. Still nothing from Sam, or the police and when I call I get the brush off.

The first thing I notice is a drawing that resembles the wall paintings on the shrines that the artifacts had been in. Sam had taken video of the ruby skull, and these drawings looked exactly like those swirls of red and white. Most of the notes are in riddles and code. It’ll take me some time to decipher them, but right now, time is all I have. I bottle up the anxiety over Sam and put it to good use.

It’s not just the skulls my father had been interested in. Like his journal, he’d written a lot about Atlantis and Egypt, Helike and Z. There are a dozen other lost cities and ruins that I’ve only ever read about in myth and legend. As I read through the notes, something clicks inside my head. _His journal._ These pieces of paper play directly into the notes on that journal! I need the journal, and these notes, and there’s probably a third set of papers that’ll complete everything and unlock the puzzle. That’s what I would do, if it were me and more than once I’ve been told I’m my father’s daughter. Whatever this puzzle is, I have half a suspicion that there’s a dozen more puzzles, all here in my father’s handwriting.

I need to set that aside, at least for now. Sam takes priority. Once I have Sam, we can… well once I’m willing to let her go five feet without latching on to her, anyway. Memorizing as much of the notes as I can, I carefully place them back into the globe. They’ve been safe in there most of my life, they can stay safe awhile longer. I pick up my phone again and try the reset password. There are nearly a hundred emails waiting so I start to set the device down when I catch Sam’s handle. Oh thank god! I open the email, and I’ve never been happier to see digital text in my life! I feel light headed. Sam is okay. Sam is okay. I tap out a quick response. 

_I was so worried! I’m at the manor. I’m going to head back to the flat to see if I missed anything, can you meet me back here? I don’t plan to be long. You already have a key. I found something!_

_I love you. I’m sorry. We’ll talk soon._

_Lara_

There’s one more thing I want before I return to the flat to dig through the rubble. I call it the family vault because it’s behind a big heavy door in the study. I know the combination by heart. Inside are dozens of relics my father collected, as well as the family jewellry collection, and some paintings. Generally the sort of thing you’d find in the vault of a count that liked to explore the far corners of the earth.

I find what I’m looking for. It’s surprisingly simple, but elegant. My mother’s engagement ring. A gold ring with a simple diamond setting. Not gigantic, but very high quality. She’d left it behind, because it’s always kind of smart to leave something like this in a safe place when you’re digging around in ruins full of traps and magical dangers. I remember the wedding ring had actually been just a simple band, and know I’ll go the same way. Why I’m thinking about it now of all times, I don’t know. I shouldn’t just because I want to prove to Sam I take her seriously, or as an apology. She’s always laughed off the idea of marrying anyone, but that was before we were together. I remember our conversation in the forest. 

Maybe that makes things different. Maybe not, but I pocket the ring as I leave the vault, and re-secure it. My parents might be gone, but Sam is right. I need to start healing. Not forgive. Never forgive, but heal. 

I scarf down the rest of my food as I make my way to the garage. We have several cars, all of which are too pricey looking for my tastes. I settle on my father’s land rover. I don’t know if it’s been driven at all since the last time Roth and I took it out, but the keys are where they’re supposed to be. “Lets hope our caretaker thought to take care of the cars, too.”

It starts with a rumble. The engine sounds smooth and there’s a full tank of gas. I let out a sigh and lean back in the seat. I check the mirrors, then put the rover into gear. There’s something taped to the stick shift. It’s a piece of paper. I unfold it and read the note, a smile growing on my lips.

_I thought that you’d choose this one. She’s in good working order, and there’s a gift pack in the back. If you ever need anything from me, you only have to ask._

_-W_

“Oh Winston, you’ve no idea how much this means to me right now.” I tuck the note into the same case the ring is located, and then pull out of the garage.


	13. Four Doors

It’s probably the cheapest hotel room I’ve ever stayed at, but they didn’t ask questions and the door has a bolt lock, so it’s good enough for me. I shove the skulls under the bed and take a look at what I’ve saved during that mad escape from the flaming ruins of my apartment. Wow. I’m really taking that well. A couple of guys tried to kill me and burn my home down! Pfft. I’m good.

I’m careful with the notes and equipment. I have two laptops but only one charging cable. I have my ruined phone, and my camera. I always have several batteries and a few dozen gigs of SD cards in the camera case, too.

In the clothing department, I had grabbed two pairs of panties, a shirt, a short skirt, and a pair of jeans. That could have been worse. I strip down. The adrenaline is starting to ebb away and I’m tired. My breathing is heavier, my arm hurts, my throat burns and I must look _horrible._

God, I’m so shallow sometimes. I grab my camera and pad my way to the bathroom and look in the mirror. “Shit.” Yeah, I’m talking to myself, but I need to hear a voice right now, and I’ve always been fond of my own. It’s my second favorite voice in the whole world. I set the camera up. I can edit or blur out the nudity but right now I don’t really care. Something compels me to record this. It’s the one thing I could never do to Lara, record her at her weakest moments. But I can record myself. I feel like I need to document this.

My left arm is messed up. I untie the cloth I’d used to try to stem the bleeding and it suddenly throbs even worse than it was just a few moments ago. The human mind’s ability to ignore something until it’s blatantly in your face is amazing. I just wish my mind was still ignoring it because I don’t know what to do right now. It’s bleeding still and I can _feel_ the bullet moving around in there. Aren’t there..arteries and things? My phone is busted and I don’t know if this place has wifi so I can’t google it.

Google is never available when I need it most. I start running the water. The hot water works, thank god. There’s no first aid kits or anything but there’s my makeup kit in my purse. I look at my tweezers and then hold them under the hot water. It’s the best I can do right now. “How the fuck did Lara do this?!” On an island without hot water? The septic shock after we got to safety had been terrifying and I don’t want to experience that myself. It had been bad enough watching her go through it. I don’t think she’d cauterized her arm but I know by heart the shape and feel of the scars on her stomach. The doctor said that had probably saved her life.

I should stop thinking about Lara’s stomach before I get distracted. “Okay.. Okay I think it’s hot enough. It’s not boiled but it’s better than nothing.” 

I put the tweezers down, the pointy end hanging off the edge of the sink as I wet a face cloth and then dribble water down my arm. It’s scalding hot and it burns. It’s not long before my breath is ragged, but I’ve cleaned it and now I have to get that bullet out. I’ve already gone this far, I might as well finish it. How hard could it be? Lara could probably do this and not blink.

“Okay..okay. That… wasn’t so bad. Once the room stops spinning, we’ll be good.” I run the tweezers through the water again then stare at myself in the mirror. There are two of me and the room is spinning a little. I put them back down and lean on the sink with my good arm, eyes squeezing shut. I have to do this, I have to do this. 

For the benefit of the camera, I speak out loud, “Why do I have to do this? I could just go to the hospital! Except they’re probably expecting that and someone might be waiting to ambush me and god knows what those skulls will do to medical equipment. Okay.”

No more talking, because I need to bite down on another face cloth as I bring the tweezers to my arm. I would have screamed if it hadn’t been for the cloth in my mouth but I know I make a lot of noise anyway. Pain jolts from the wounds like a thousand spikes ripping into my nerves. Tears streak my face, and I dig around until the tweezers close around something. 

The bullet drops into the sink and I collapse, my knees buckling beneath me. The only thing keeping me off the floor is the sink.. Shakily, I run my hands under the water, and wash out the wound again before wrapping a cloth tightly around it. The world started spinning some time ago, but I give myself a cursory once over for anything else that might need me to do something, but the bullet and a burn on my leg are the worse of it. I think another grazed my hip but it doesn’t look bad. The burn doesn’t look that serious either but I turn the camera towards the tub, then carefully make my way to the shower and turn it on. Luke warm water, right? Clean off and treat the burn! Go me! I reach over to adjust the temperature and the world spins out as I pitch forward into the tub.

I come to I don’t know how much time later, but the camera is still running and I’m laying in the tub soaked to the bone and shivering. It takes me a good ten minutes to get out and wrap a towel around myself. The bed is warm and inviting, but I pull on some panties and the clean shirt before sitting on it. I look at the room phone, and even pick it up to call Lara. 

Something stops me. I look at the floor besides the bed, and think about what’s under it. I need to get a message to Lara a different way. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but can you really blame me? I wouldn’t be able to handle anything if I was attacked right now and the last thing I want to do is bring attention to Lara.

But I need to know she’s okay. I need her to know I’m okay. I need her to know we’re both okay because I’m going to make this up to her like crazy as soon as I can. I’m sitting there like an idiot, holding my camera and pointing it at the phone. Finally, I make up my mind and pick it up and tada! There’s no dial tone. “Damn it! Maybe there is some wi-fi I can piggyback on.” 

I turn the camera off and open my laptop. I let it charge, and getting the plug into the wall is more draining than I really want to think about. There’s a very weak wi-fi signal but I’ll take it. I type off an email to her. My legs don’t want to support me so I won’t be moving from the bed any time soon.

_I’m okay. I’m sorry I ran off. We’ll talk when we see each other but be careful there are these guys and they wanted you know what. I grabbed everything I could think of._

_My phone is busted, let me know where to meet you. I love you._

_Sam_

Of course, I have her laptop so she can’t exactly use that to check her mail, but she does have her phone. My head is swimming but I need to check the news.

There’s not much about the fire. Just that it happened. I don’t think they know who’s apartment that is, just yet. When they do the media frenzy will start again. Just when Lara was thinking she’d escape any more scrutiny, too. We’d avoided a lot of it after our first trip to Peru and the expedition to Costa Rica but after the helicopter crashed and we were the only two survivors…I hadn’t let Lara near the internet for a month. I didn’t want her even more depressed. Bad Luck Lara.

I lean back on the bed. The pillow feels so awesome and soft under my head, and I close my eyes. It’s easy to just drift off right now and I’m just so exhausted. Exhausted enough that the jabbing in my arm isn’t enough to keep me from succumbing to it.

“Lara?” I’m standing in a puddle of black water up to my knees. There’s something vaguely familiar about this, and something really disturbing about it. It’s thicker than water. There’s blood dribbling down my arm into the water and I realize that I’m standing in a pool of blood. It’s as black as the mist left behind by our copies. I try to staunch the flow, but it pours out around my fingers and into the pool. Everything is moving slowly, like a video I’ve shot with a high speed camera.

The water is rising, and it’s at my waist now. It’s like wading through a sea of blood but I have to get out! It’s so dark, and I’m going to drown. My blood is pouring out of my body to fill this place and I just want to give up. Giving up would be easiest. I’m so dizzy and it feels like everything is spinning. 

Just close my eyes and accept it. Lara doesn’t have save me any more. Except she’s not here. Where is she? The water drains away and I’m standing in a white room. There are four doors. “What is this? What’s going on?” There’s no answer, but I didn’t expect one. That would have been creepy. 

My arm is covered in that black...goop. It’s too viscous to be water. But it doesn’t hurt any more, so that’s a plus. I can see something blue glowing through it. The paint from the ritual on Yamatai, I think. It’s probably on my face, too, but i push that out of my mind. It doesn’t make sense but it does, kind of.

Behind me is that pool, though I don’t know how I got out of it. The goop seems to draw together, until four figures are formed. They look like me, but with the inky black eyes and the gaps in their skin filled with more of that black night, though this time there are stars. Their skin is paler, too. The ones I’ve seen before were pale, but these are like the color of death. I don’t remember that from the ruins, but it had been so dark there that maybe I just couldn’t tell.

The only thing I can say for certain is they fill me with an unearthly terror. Four doors, four exits and I charge at one of the doors, flinging it open. Grey tendrils grab my wrists and try to yank me in, I’m screaming and use my legs on the door frame to pull away. 

One of the evil mes grabs my arm. It burns like dry ice. I scream again and rush to another door as claws rake down my back. This one I open more cautiously but nothing grabs me, so I take my chances and go through it, slamming it behind me.

Jerking awake, it takes me a minute to realize where I am. I put my fist to my mouth and try to slow my breathing. Try to not scream. That was the most fucked up dream I’ve had in at least a year. I almost wish for Himiko again. Almost. I look at my arm and I think there’s a blue mark but it’s gone when I blink. My back aches but when I reach back there I don’t feel anything. That was crazy. It was just a dream.

Wiping sweat from my face, I slide out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. The wound is bleeding again so I change to a different cloth, then dump cold water over my head until I feel like I’ve cooled down. It had to have been some kind of fever dream, but for all I know the skulls are telling me something.

For one thing, avoid door number two. Door number three seemed to be the escape, but what about the other two doors? I wish I’d had time to peek into each one. There might have been answers. 

I really hate those damned shadow people. That’s what I’m going to call them. It sounds better than black watery goopy people and is easier to say. Do they even have their own personalities and thoughts? They’re not much better than zombies, really. Zombie copies. Shambling corpses. I can’t even bring myself to think of a dirty joke involving three Laras. I really _am_ shaken. 

Back on the bed, I turn the camera on and look into the lens. “So I had a nightmare. Not really uncommon for me, right? But this was a new one. I was in a well, I think. Surrounded by water but it wasn’t water. It was thicker. Kind of like blood, and black. Sorta like that water in the ruins, but at least that stuff was actually watery. Anyway, my arm was bleeding the same substance, and then four of me grew out of the goop. Just rose up like being reformed, or born. It was disturbing.”

I make a note to cut my voice over the video of the shadow people we’ve managed to capture. “They looked just like me. Like those things in Peru and Costa Rica. They were really pale this time. Dead pale, white as bone, with gaps in their flesh, especially on their arms and cheeks. It’s like looking into endless stars when you look into those gaps or those eyes. Which is new because there didn’t used to be stars in the darkness.”

I shiver at the memory. “There were four doors. I opened one door, nearly ending up the star of my very own tentacle flick. Second door woke me up. No idea what’s in the other doors, but I’ll probably find out sometime. This dream has meaning, I just don’t know what it is yet.”

Camera off, I lean back in bed again and check my mail. Nothing from Lara but it’s like four A.M. Not that I’m going to be getting to sleep any time soon. I’m just so exhausted but I need to find an ATM. I’m going to need money and it’s probably a good idea to go cash for awhile. At least until I know what I’m dealing with.

Paranoia doesn’t suit me but tell that to the bullet hole in my arm.


	14. Yamatai In Her Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence and torture warnings, as well as brief mentions of sex trafficking. Also, drugs.

There’s no light here. My head is pounding and I think I hear voices in the distance, but I can’t see anything. My hands are bound to a chair and so are my legs. My face is sore. It takes me a moment to remember what had happened.

The flat! Someone had been waiting for me in the flat. I know I gave as good as I got, but they smashed something into the side of my face then jabbed a needle into my arm. A drug cocktail of some kind I think, but it did a damn good job of knocking me out. I still feel groggy and there is a vague sense of unease left over from my dreams. I recall something about Roth and four doors. I really wish I could remember whatever it was he wants to tell me, but my father is there too. It feels like a warning. Like there’s something they have to say. 

I can clearly see his mouth moving, but the only words that my mind can make out is gibberish. I hear Yamatai, I hear my mother’s name, and Sam’s name and I don’t know what it all means, only that I can’t decipher this mystery. I can’t drift off again, I can’t go back to find out more, though I want to try.

My bonds are well tied, but with some effort I think I can get my wrist out of one of the bindings. I start to twist my wrist around, biting my lip as I start to rub it raw. It will be slow going, and it’s _painful_. If I can get my arm to bleed that’ll help. Is this my life, intentionally injuring myself in order to get out of some madman’s clutches? At least they don’t have Sam. She’d be the best leverage possible. It’s a gut feeling, but she’s not here and I won’t believe anything they say without some kind of proof that they have her. She’s safe at the manor. I latch onto that hope as pain shoots up my arm. I’m going to keep trying to get my hand free, no matter at my body’s protests. I just need one hand. You can do a lot of damage with one hand.

There’s scraping outside the door and I stop. It’s dark in here so I hope they don’t notice the state of my wrist. The rope there feels looser. The door opens and I’m blinded by the light, turning my head to spare my eyes the visual onslaught. When I feel like I can see again, I turn my head back to the figure in the door.

It’s a portly older gentleman. He’s shadowed so I can’t see his face until he steps into the room. He has a white beard but no mustache and his skin is light but weathered. There’s something about him I recognize, but it’s his voice that clinches it. “Miss Croft, I know the accommodations don’t meet your usual standards, but you’ll forgive my caution - you’ve quite the reputation.”

My mind flashes back to my childhood, and that voice conversing with my father in the study. He’d always given me the creeps. I must be gaping stupidly because he prompts me. “You don’t recognize me?”

“Of course I do. Nathaniel Shaw.” I grit my teeth, wondering why my father would work with a man like this. “You worked with my father.”

“Richard was one of the best in the field. You seem to have his knack for digging in places best left undisturbed.” There is ice in his voice, and I wonder if he had something to do with my father’s disappearance. 

I play dumb, though. “If you wanted to know more about Yamatai, I’m working on a book. I’ll be sure to send you an autographed copy. You’ll be the first to know all the details, outside of the survivors.”

Shaw comes closer. His breath is minty as he leans over me, and there’s something in his eyes that’s inhuman. “Yamatai is just one piece of the puzzle, Miss Croft. A puzzle that I’ve been putting together since your father and I were fresh out of school and searching for treasures in the Congo.” He smiles at me, because I can’t hide my reaction to his words. “You’re searching for skulls, when you should be searching for _vessels_.”

Vessels? My brain starts to click everything into place. The skulls aren’t just artifacts, they’re receptive to energy. _Sam was right_! Those things were feeding on our emotions! And Himiko...her power and her soul flowing from one person to the next, turning human bodies into containers for her energy. They’re similar. Maybe even the same. What could the skulls control then? Weather? Something else? Or is it just knowledge. If they’d once been people, been someone’s soul, there’s knowledge there. And if these artifacts could be other objects, then some of the sites I’ve disregarded might actually bear fruit. Thinking about the prospect of discovery helps focus my mind. I’m going to need that focus for whatever comes.

“Of course, you destroyed a piece, didn’t you. When you destroyed Himiko’s corpse.” The man steps away. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know about what you found in those rainforests, and what you remember about Himiko.”

I just stare at him. “Oh, of course, I’ll tell you everything. Himiko was a bitch who tried to kill my friends and drove an entire island of shipwrecked men to insanity. I enjoyed stabbing her in the heart. I’d do it again.”

“Vicious. Since you brought it up.” He steps aside and another man enters. This man is wide shouldered and tall. He say something in Russian. I recognize the word ‘brother’ and then I recognize his face. I don’t remember his name. Nikolai or Nikolaus I think but I remember that face, that burning hatred in his eyes and the feel of his fists pounding into me while Sam watched on helplessly. It’s not really who he is that gets to me - as beatings and pain go that had been somewhat low on my list of traumas, though I wonder how he survived.

It’s that he’s from the _island_ , that Shaw has brought _anyone_ from that island here that makes my blood run cold. That it’s a man who hates my existence for the death of his brother just rubs it in more. It’s a hatred I can understand, and sharing understanding with a man like him makes my stomach lurch. I’m back on the island again. My mind goes to the darkest places and I know when I get loose there won’t be anything between me and freedom. 

The man laughs as he approaches me. “Look at her, Shaw. You can see it. You can see Yamatai in her eyes. I told you. You never leave that island. It’s always with you. Always.”

When the pain begins, my eyes roll back into my head, and it’s like I’m floating there, observing my own torture. I can feel every agonizing thing Nikolai does to me, but eventually none of it matters. I just have to get through this, I just have to keep from telling them anything important. I know I’m screaming, but as long as I don’t tell them anything I still win.

I talk. I babble about some of the discoveries I’d made as a child with my father, and I tell Shaw what kind of man I think he is and how my father must have hated his guts. I use language that even Sam would blush at. I think I hit a nerve. He calls his attack dog off. Is it over? It’s not over. There’s a prick with a needle and then they inject something into me. I feel...I can only describe it as a _rush_. My cheeks flush and I tilt my head back and groan as the pain is taken away. My arms and legs feel heavy. I try to wet my mouth and speak. “Oh...god, what did you….?”

“They used to grab girls off the street, you know. They’d tie them up, and give them heroin and rape them until they learned to shoot themselves up and accept the sex willingly.” His voice is foggy, and sounds like he’s speaking to me across a great chasm. “They’d do anything to anyone, for just another hit.”

People still do that, I’m pretty sure. I glance at Nikolai, and the only lust I see in his eyes is the kind that wants to beat my face into hamburger. The feeling is mutual right now. I focus on what it would feel like to beat my fist into his nose. Something in my eyes makes Nikolai flinch.

“That’s not your fate, Miss Croft. I have _some_ humanity left.”

Shaw must have noticed my glance. I look back at him, the room swimming slowly as I move. I don’t know what he means by humanity. He’s a bastard at the least. “Then what...do you want, Mister Shaw? What are you going to trade me for my next hit?”

“Answers. Answers you’re going to provide. Eventually.” 

Blame the drugs pumping through my veins but I feel emboldened. I grin at him, and reply, “I’m pretty familiar with withdrawals at this point.” It’s why I tried to avoid taking my painkillers when I could help it. “Won’t...tell you anything, but thanks for making me feel so nice.”

“Just you wait,” Nikolai said thickly. “When you come down, you are mine again, and you’ll beg for the shot, outsider.”

“I thought I was one of you. Glad to know...still the outsider.” I got spit in my eye for my efforts, but its kind of worth it. I grin at them until they’re out the door, and hope they think they’ve started driving me mad. Because I really need to ignore this high and try to get out. Nikolai managed to loosen my bindings further. But god this feels so good. My head flops back against the chair again. Maybe I’ll just relax. Just a little bit. It feels really nice, just floating here.

“Lara? Lara don’t you fucking give up!”

“Sam?” I open my eyes, but she’s not there. Okay. Okay. I can get my hands free. No problem.


	15. The Mercenary and the Butler

Something’s wrong, I can feel it deep inside my heart. I pull the skulls out from under the bed and look at them, like they could provide some kind of answer for me. I feel like I can _communicate_ with them. “Okay Lassie? Did Lara fall down the well?”

Two pairs of crystal eyes stare at me like I’m a psycho. Then pain courses through me, right through my center and I curl into a ball. I can see Lara. She’s hurt. I push myself back up to my knees and look at the skulls. “...okay she fell down the well but where the hell is she?”

Pretty sure I can’t do this alone, but there’s not many people I can turn to about this. What happens if I can find her? How do I get to her, will she even be able to walk? Or talk? God, who were these people and what did they want?

Before I can think about it more I start dialing a phone number and wait nervously while it rings. The voice on the other end is familiar, even if I haven’t heard it in close to a year. We still keep in contact, just usually email and texts. Reyes is pretty busy so I don’t like to disturb her, plus I’m pretty sure she still blames both of us for Roth’s death. Which isn’t exactly fair. I don’t think she hates us. She can even be a little warm at times. Mostly to me, though I’m sure she _respects_ Lara. It’s weird.

The last time the four of us got together had been for Jonah’s birthday. That had been my idea. I thought it would be good for Lara and I _missed_ the big guy. I hadn’t expected Reyes to show up, but she and her daughter had and we’d had a good awkward dinner. We avoided talking about Yamatai but it had kinda hung in the air over our heads.

“Hello? Joslin? It’s Sam.”

“Sam? What’s up? Did you get a new number?”

I smile into the phone. “That’s complicated. I know it’s kinda not cool to call like this but I didn’t know who to talk to. And I really need help or advice or something.”

“What’s wrong?” There’s guarded caution in her voice. I know then that she’s not going to come to our rescue. I can’t blame her, she has a kid. I could never ask her to put us ahead of Alisha. So I spill my guts. About the skulls, about our plans and the attack in the apartment and I kind of gloss over the fight Lara and I had but Reyes probably picks up on that. 

“So I don’t know where she is but I’m pretty sure she’s hurt. We’re both hurt. But I’m more concerned about her.”

“You need to take care of yourself before you can take care of Lara,” she points out. I don’t like that answer, probably because it’s partly true. I glare at the wall.

“The type of shit that the two of you get up to is fucking ridiculous,” she continues. irritation creeping it’s way into her voice. “I don’t want to know, I don’t want to be involved.”

“I’m not asking you to be involved, I just need...advice. I guess.” I hear her sigh on the other end of the phone.

“What would Lara do. Assuming she had to go somewhere with your apartment on fire.”

“I don’t know.”

Another sigh. She has to think I’m an idiot. “Come on, kid. You know her better than anyone.”

I think about that. “Well she’d hate it but she’d probably go to her parent’s house.”

“So go there. Maybe you can find answers. It’ll be safe anyway. I’ll...make some calls. Roth knew some people and maybe one of them could help you.”

I’m nearly bowled over with relief. “Oh my god, Reyes. Thank you so much.” She doesn’t answer right away and I chew on my lip waiting for what she’s going to say. 

“Just be careful, okay? You’ve already been through so much. Don’t let this crazy follow you home and ruin the good things.”

“Lara is the good thing.” I wet my lips, and add. “We’re … “

“Going out finally?”

Yeah, I stare dumbly at the phone and then put it back to my ear. “What? Yeah. What? How?”

She laughs. She actually laughs. It’s not an unpleasant sound, really. “Call me back in about five hours. I’ll have more information for you then. Next time I see either of you it needs to be someone’s wedding, and there’s nothing crazy. Nothing. Not even one little crazy thing is allowed to happen.”

“Well I can’t promise there won’t be crazy dancing, but sure.” I hang up and stare at the phone in my hands. Okay. Croft Manor. I know the keycode, unless Lara changed it. I call a cab before I start to pack everything, more carefully this time. I’m going to save my girlfriend. I’m going to hold onto her and never let her go. I’m going to hurt the people who hurt her. Before packing the laptop I check my mail one more time, and I’m rewarded for my efforts. I let out a woop that could wake the dead, then call Reyes back. I don’t think about what the skulls showed me earlier. I chalk it up to not sleeping well.

“Hey! It’s me again! Lara’s okay, she just emailed me!”

“Leave it to that girl to make us look like fools. Look, I’m still going to make some calls because I know someone that can help.” Reyes grunts. “Not looking forward to that...”

“Okay. Thanks again, I really appreciate the help. I’m headed to the manor, she went to see if she can salvage anything else from the apartment.” I hang up and exhale in relief. I could meet her at the apartment but the mansion is safe and I really kind of want to be there when she gets back. Knowing my luck I’d miss her anyway. When I open the door to the motel room, I notice it’s raining. I don’t mind, not much could ruin my mood now!

The cab’s waiting for me. I get in and give the driver the address, hugging the backpack to my chest as we go. I’m really protective of everything in it, especially as the weather worsens. I hope I can get into the manor because otherwise I’m going to be standing getting soaking wet until Lara gets back. And when I’m actually standing on the doorstep fumbling for the key and the alarm code, I know she’s not back yet. I’m disappointed. I’m cold, hungry, aching and a little scared and the person I want to faceplant on decided to dig through rubble. Ugh, way to be selfish, Sam. I should have just gone to the apartment.

Someone does open the door before I can turn the key and I nearly freak out before I recognize him. “Oh! Hi.. uh.”

Winston nods at me and steps aside. “Come in, Miss Nishimura. I’m afraid you missed Lara, she just left an hour ago. I came by to clean up a few things, but I missed her too.”

I’ve only met him a couple of times. Lara likes to avoid this place like the plague and everything. But he seemed really nice the times I did get to talk to him and his smile is warm. He even produces a towel from somewhere and puts it around my shoulders. I give him the most grateful look I can manage. “I was so worried about her. ”

The man leads me into the dining room and makes me sit. “She took the Range Rover to your flat, I think, but I don’t know if she’s on her way back. I’ll ring her up.”

Again, something from nowhere. There’s a bowl warm soup in front of me. I look at him like he’s Jesus. Soup Jesus. Why the hell had Lara given _this_ up? This man is amazing. A way better father figure than either of our dads, to be completely honest. “You’re Soup Jesus. Thank you!” It warms me up and for the first time in like two days I feel like a human being.”

He chuckles at me. “I started it when I saw the taxi come up the drive. When your done, we should retire to the study. Lara was there before she left. She might have left something behind to clue us in.

“I didn’t check my email until I was just about out the door. I would have been even more worried.” I jump when lightning flashes outside, and rub at my temples. I hate storms now. They’re not at all as fun as they used to be before the island. At least when I’m alone, anyway. “I need to call Reyes soon. She’s doing something to help, but I don’t know what. Lara won’t like it, but I don’t want to keep doing this alone.”

“You can use the house phone. There’s a change of clothing in Lara’s bedroom.” He came around the table and moved the towel aside to look at my shoulder. “We need to look at that, first.”

There’s way more to this butler guy than you’d think. I’ve barely got the last of the soup in me before he’s whisking me off to one of the bathrooms and sitting me down on the toilet. He’s not just Soup Jesus, I think he’s first aid Jesus. 

My wound looks a little infected, and it hurts like hell but he cleans it out and then he breaks out a needle and thread and I zone out because no, just no. He snaps his fingers in front of my eyes until I snap out of it.”

“It’s done, Miss Nishimura.” He helps me to my feet and I look at the neatly sewn and bandaged wound. 

“Wow. That’s...really good.”

“I had a lot of practice,” he replies. It’s a little cryptic and when I push him for more information he just smiles patiently at me. “Now, we should study that study.”

I nod, but the doorbell chimes, so I follow him to see who it is. When he opens the door, there’s a woman standing there. She’s probably about six feet tall and can meet Winston in the eye without difficulty. Her hair has been dyed purple and hangs loosely just past her ears. Her face is sharp and she has pronounced cheekbones. Her skin is a shade darker than bronze and she’s just _gorgeous_. But in a hard way. I’ve seen eyes like hers before. Roth had them. Lara has them. She's _intense_.

She’s also wearing a form fitting pair of blue jeans with a simple black t-shirt and leather jacket. My eyes linger a little too long on her legs and I force myself to snap out of it.

“Miss Touma, you’re early. Come in. This is Samantha Nishimura.”

“What? Oh. Hi. Just call me Sam.” I stick my hand out and she shakes it firmly. Her grin is a little sassy and ... She’s hot. It’s ridiculous. Put me Lara and her in a room together and we’d incinerate the place. She looks like she’s a few years older than Reyes, and her hazel eyes make me want to melt into my shoes. She’s studying me and I feel exposed, like prey. When she talks I can’t even place her accent. It’s faint, but present, and gives her voice a slight musical lilt to it.

“It’s just Soraya. We need to talk. Joslin didn’t make much sense over the phone.”

We settle in the study, and Soraya listens to me intently as I try to explain everything. I show them the skulls and Lara’s notes and then I show them the videos from Peru and Costa Rica. They aren’t special effects, I make sure to hammer that home. Winston gets up and leaves the room and I check the time, because Lara still isn’t back yet.

“Describe the men to me,” the woman asks, settling back in her chair. She has one leg thrown over the arm of the chair, and her left arm is hanging off the back. I feel a little irritated because that’s Lara’s chair. Or her dad’s chair. Whatever. I describe the men, at least what I can remember, and she frowns. 

“Okay. I’ll help you out.”

Relieved, I sink down in the chair. “Thank you so much. What is this going to cost?”

The woman smirks, like she knows a secret but won’t tell. “For you, base expenses. You and Lara, you’re family.”

I’ve never met this woman before in my life and I’m family? Before I can open my mouth to speak, she explains, “I do this for Roth, and for Joslin. Roth was a good man, and Lara is his family and that makes _you_ his family. You two, you’re like two peas in the pod that fuck, right? That’s how Joslin described it.” 

“How do you know Roth and Reyes?” I’ve finally found my voice and my curiosity is killing me. My face turns red but I can’t lie. Lara and I really are like two peas in a pod. Okay, I do have an objection. “And it’s more than just fucking.”

“I’ve known Roth since I was a little younger than you. I was one of Roth’s crew.” She shrugs a shoulder. “And Reyes...”

Winston returns before she can continue. “I’ve loaded your car as you requested, Miss Touma.”

Soraya jerks a finger towards Winston. “Thanks. Come on. Lets call your girlfriend, I know where we need to meet, because I know who attacked you, I think.” She gets to her feet, untangling herself from the chair in a single fluid motion. I feel a little less than graceful around her. 

“Did you know Lara’s dad?” It’s a reasonable assumption, if she did stuff with Roth and them. And with the way Winston had sewn me up and the fact that he knew her, makes me think Lara’s dad had been getting into the kinds of messes we were involved in.

“Yes.” She glances at me. I’ve moved to walk next to her while Winston sees to it the skulls are put away safely. She towers over me, and it’s a little intimidating. Then she puts her arm around me and squeezes. “I’m not going to bite. Not too hard. You ask a lot of questions.”

“Knowing the answers keeps me out of trouble,” I point out, shivering and pulling out of her grip. I’m not in the mood to flirt. A first, I know. Winston catches up to us then.

“The police phoned. Miss Croft’s Range Rover was found abandoned near the flat, the doors opened. There were signs of a struggle.”

I pale and feel the world start to spin around me. I sag against the wall. “Oh god what now?” I’d seen this. The artifacts had tried to warn me and I’d ignored it and now Lara is missing!

“Then we need to hurry,” Soraya says. “You drive.” She tosses her keys at me and I fumble them, still worried sick about Lara. We walk to the car, and I don’t ask how she knows where Lara is or what we’ll do when we get there. I try think of something else to fill the silence because if I think about Lara right now I might seize up. If she knows where to look I’m not going to argue.

My voice shakes just a little as I ask, “So what’s the story with you and Reyes, then?”

She slides into the passenger seat, pulling out some handguns and inspecting them. She spares me a glance and a raised eyebrow, then shrugs her shoulders and slides the magazines into place. “Bitch broke my heart.”


	16. The Animal Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara gets loose. There be violence here.

It’s the smell of blood that does it. It washes over me like the tide. Blood and rotting flesh and the screams of the dying. Nikolai is coming back. His eyes should terrify me. They’re filled with hate and loathing, but then so are mine. He has a whole array of new toys to break me with, though. I just have my body. The hit has worn off and I can feel numerous aches and pains. I get it now. They’re going to break me. Then shoot me up and repeat that until I give in. It’s already happened..twice now, I think. It’s getting foggy in my memory. Maybe three times.

_I don’t see that killer in your eyes anymore when we talk about Yamatai_

I feel my heart beating. It’s pounding in my chest as Nikolai gets closer. He has a pair of pliers, and a simple mallet. The madness enters his eyes and I can actually feel fear this time. I latch onto that, I let it fuel me. He has his torture tools. I just have my body. It’s really all I need.

_I sometimes wonder if I’m a monster. That Lara Croft died on that island and someone else came back._

My wrist is sore and raw, but the rope is loose. I have a chance. I wait for Nikolai to get close, I wait for him to bring the pliers towards my fingers, before jerking my head forward and catching him in the nose with my forehead. The pliers are in my hand and I cut at the bond on my other wrist as he stumbles back. But the man recovers quickly. Almost too quickly. I use the chair to trip him up. The rope slides down the legs and I’m free. I break the chair on the top of his head and grab for something heftier from his tool chest. 

There’s fire in his eyes, but there’s a furnace in my belly and it pumps heat through my veins. I don’t have to try to slip back into the hunter. The wolf claws up from the depths of my soul and consumes me. 

_That wild thing that woke within me on Yamatai. Sometimes she wants blood._

“Come on, you bastard! Are you afraid of a girl?” My voice is deeper than usual and I use my pain to fuel my fury. “Come on! You want me? I’ll feed you your _teeth_!”

We both move at the same time. I’m faster, and I can see his attack telegraphed a kilometer away. He flinches, and my hammer smashes into his face, shattering bone and driving sharp wedges of skull deep into his brain. I feel the impact up my arm. It feels _good_.

I stare at his corpse, at the blood coating the hammer, then at the blood on my hands. His voice echoes in my mind.

_Look at her, Shaw. You can see it. You can see Yamatai in her eyes. I told you. You never leave that island. It’s always with you. Always._

A piece of that hell will always be inside of me. That wild thing that thrives on blood and adrenaline, that beast that wants nothing more than to survive. But even when I’m at my darkest, even when I have to turn off the part of me that’s human, I have a reason to live. There’s only me here but that doesn’t mean others aren’t in danger. Or that Sam isn’t threatened. She’s the only thing I have to hold on to that keeps me human.

Nikolai has a gun on him. There are ten bullets and I resolve to save two for Shaw. I secure it in my belt, then find a second hammer in the toolbox and creep out into the corridor. The floor is metal, and so are the walls, but the ground is steady. We’re not on a ship, then. I hear voices approach, and hide in the shadows. Two men. I recognize one as a man who’d attacked me when I went to check on the flat. They’re both armed and they’re going to check on my little cell. 

I don’t think about if they have families or loved ones. I don’t care what their hopes and dreams are. I can’t _afford_ to. Once, when Roth was teaching me to fire a gun, I asked him if he’d ever shot someone with them.

“ _Lara, god knows I hope you never have to, but if you’re in a position where it’s you or them, you can’t let yourself think about it. If you think much past aiming, then you’re going to die.”_

Their bodies are heavy, but I drag them into the cell with Nikolai. The bigger man has some kind of automatic rifle. I familiarize myself with it before closing the cell door. I choose a different route this time, but it’s impossible to tell where I am and which direction I need to move in so that I can escape. 

I explore for several minutes and eventually find stairs up to another floor. There are no stairs down, so maybe I’m below ground. It’s a possibility, I haven’t seen any windows.

I ascend two flights before I hear any signs of life. I bide my time, counting how many people there are, how many patrols, and how many are armed. Where is Shaw, and what is this place? Where I am is probably a better question, but I’m curious why it’s so well defended. It’s like a military base and the last time I was in one hadn’t ended well for the people within.

The first patrol supplies me with more ammunition as well as a long, ancient looking kris. The blade looks like it’s from Bali but the hilt is more like what you’d find in Thailand. That isn’t too uncommon, actually. They were often repaired from the parts on hand, and these things were carried around far and wide. 

What _is_ unusual are some of the designs engraved into the blade and hilt. They look familiar and I suspect they’re linked to the vessels Shaw is searching for. I want to study the dagger more, but this isn’t the time or place. I secure one of the hammers in my belt and hold the kris in a reverse grip. The men I took it from won’t be waking up anytime soon, but with the kris in my hand it’s tempting to cut their throats where they lay. I’m still fighting the urge to bloody the blade when I’m surprised by another patrol. 

It’s probably the first time it’s cut through human flesh in centuries. It sinks into the man’s shoulder with such a great ease that I can almost swear that the dagger is enjoying this. The thought is less disturbing than it should be, all told. I lose myself in the flow of combat, weaving through three guards as I carve my way down the hallway. The blade is singing in my hand by the time I step into Shaw’s office, and my hammer has bits of grey matter on it. This is what I’m capable of, but Roth was right. I can’t think about anything but moving forward.

Shaw isn’t inside but there’s no mistaking his mark. It resembles my father’s study, though there’s photos and drawings plastered to every wall. I see the marks from the skull shrines, and symbols from a dozen places, including Yamatai. There are even photos of those strange faces that marked the walls throughout the ruins in Peru and Costa Rica. Judging from some of these documents I have my suspicions about where Shaw is headed next. I see pictures of his men as well. I put them to memory so that I know not to trust them. One of them is definitely Victor.

This man has really done his research and I want to take it all in, but I’m drawn to his desk. I don’t have the time I need so I shove as much of the research as I can into my pockets and a bag. I tie the latter to my belt. It’s getting a little cluttered down there but there isn’t much I can do about that. Lastly, I tuck some syringes from his desk into my pocket. I need to know what they injected me with. I’m lucky I’m thinking this clearly right now.

I nearly get my head blown off when I peek out of the office. So much for stealth. I unsling the rifle from my back and flick the safety off. I throw a paperweight and they scatter thinking it’s a grenade. It gives me enough time to aim and fire, and the gunshots echo throughout the hallway. It’s nearly deafening, but when I let go of the trigger, the resistance is gone. The floor is slick from all the blood, and I have to move carefully. This is never like how you see it in the movies. My stomach roils from the smell but I carefully step through and past the corpses. I count them.

I’ve always counted them. Ninety-six on Yamatai. Six on the way to the office, another four in this corridor. I can’t always remember their faces, which doesn’t sit well with me. But I try to remember their number. The count could be even higher, but I really do like choke holds.

I’m getting out of here. When I’m alone and I’m safe, maybe then I’ll try to find the pieces of my soul that get shredded with every life I take. Maybe then I can try to understand how I can slip so easily into this role.

I think I see my exit, but it’s guarded. I sneak behind him, kris in one hand. It sings to me. One-hundred and seven.


	17. Rescue Mission

Soraya clearly knows where she’s going, which is making me a little suspicious. Except she’s given me her gun, and both Soup Jesus (also known as Wound Stitching Jesus) and Reyes trust her. To be perfectly honest I don’t distrust her entirely. There’s something generally trustworthy about her. Maybe it’s the way she spent the first thirty minutes in the car alternately complaining about Reyes and praising her and Roth. I didn’t mind, because it keeps me from thinking about Lara too much. I wonder how she was able to focus when she worried about me.

Her and Reyes could have been me or Lara in twenty years if one or the other of us had rejected each other. The thought is painful. Watching our friendship fall apart over something like that would have been _devastating_. Time heals all wounds, but that doesn’t mean things don’t still sting sometimes, and Soraya seems to be a little sore about Reyes.

“You had to have been in London to get there that fast,” I say. We’re approaching the ocean, I’m pretty sure we’re in Scotland now, or close to it.

“I was finishing up a job when Joslin called me. Turns out it’s linked.” She turns off the main road and drives us towards a sleepy looking town. It’s the very definition of picturesque, so of course my camcorder makes it’s way to my hands.

“What kind of job.” I look at the world through a viewfinder and everything feels right again. This is my life. Maybe the best thing about Lara and me is how we’ve always supported each other in pursuing the things we love to do. I don’t think I just follow her around, though I love watching her do what she loves. It’s my career too. She just happens to be a great subject to document. I actually have this idea for a web documentary series on Youtube. I think it would work, and we can make people interested in the ancient world. 

“Bodyguard.” She glances at me and there’s a slight leer on her face. “Some rich guy’s daughter needed a protection detail. He’s been pissing off the wrong people lately. She’s a bit wild. You remind me of her.” She just looks at me and I feel hot. I roll the window down and get the impression she likes messing with me. Well, it’s working!

She points towards the coast coast. “There’s a facility just outside of English waters. It’s a corporation headed by a man named Shaw. Shaw and the Crofts go way back, and your description of the men that attacked you matched the description of some men that tried to mess with my socialite.”

I put on a smirk. “I’m guessing that didn’t stop you from messing with your socialite yourself, right?”

She laughs as we pull over. “Not in the slightest.”

We both get out of the car. She’s popping the trunk as I walk around to join her. There’s a small arsenal inside. “How the hell did you get all that into the country?”

“I didn’t. It was already here.” She slid a shot gun over her shoulder then handed me some kind of small semi-auto rifle. “When you’re both safe and sound, maybe I’ll tell you some stories about Richard Croft, Nathaniel Shaw and Conrad Roth, and the very busy year we had in ninety-two.”

“We definitely need to wait for Lara for that. She might literally kill us if she’s not there to hear this.” Okay so I’ve fired one of these a few times, I don’t remember what kind of gun it is but I think I can use it. I have Roth’s pistols too, tucked into my pants. I jump when she puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Let me handle most of this. Don’t shoot unless you have to.” She closed the trunk with a resounding thunk. “You’re still innocent.”

“I’m _not_ going to let you just carry me. I’m going to pull my own weight.” I brush her hand off of my shoulder as my stomach starts twisting around. “Lara _needs_ me. Lets go.”

I turn my back to her so I don’t see the expression on her face, but she sounds amused when she says, “I’ll explain my plan on the boat. We’re going to sneak in. If we’re lucky, we won’t have to hurt anyone.”

Her words lifts a weight off my back and my stomach stops tying itself into knots. I already can’t sleep at night over Victor, I don’t need to add a bunch of rent-a-goons to those nightmares too.

There’s a little speedboat at the dock, and Soraya gets in and starts messing with the motor. She pulls on a black ski-mask, probably to obscure her hair. She has one for me, too, and I take it with a sigh. As we speed off towards the island, I realize that this woman has done this sort of thing before and I give her the eye. “So what’s the plan?”

“Get inside, find your girl, trash anything of Shaw’s that might hurt him, and get out.”

“Yeah, that sounds really simple.”

She laughs again and lounges against the motor, like we’re on holiday and she’s just soaking up the sun. Even though there’s no sun and the storm has followed us north. “Just follow my lead, and don’t make any noise.”

“I’m not-”

She held up a finger. “You can watch my back. Can I trust you to do that?” A pause. “To defend, not stare.”

I just give her a glare and she laughs again. She’s not taking this seriously and it’s really starting to piss me off. I change the subject. “What kind of company is this?”

“Research and Development. Weapons and medicine mostly. It’s why Richard and Roth split with him. Richard was interested in pure science, and Roth...well Roth went anywhere Richard did. But Shaw wanted to use their discoveries for more practical uses.” She points at me. “Could you imagine what a government could do if they thought they could control Himiko’s power? We searched for Yamatai, you know, but never found it.”

“Lucky you.” I fold my arms. I can feel a tingling on my skin, and smell ozone, so I look to the sky to see if the storm has caught us. I don’t really need to, the way the boat is bouncing on the waves is evidence enough. While the other woman is distracted by keeping us afloat, I pull up the sleeve of my shirt. The paint is back. I tug the sleeve back down and start to hyperventilate.

This isn’t good. It’s supposed to be paint, not permanent markings. I flash back to picking up the red skull, and the feeling it had given me. And to the nightmare I’d had with the doors. I swallow. I swear I hear laughing in the back of my head, and it’s not the first time I heard laughing. But Lara had heard something in Costa Rica too, hadn’t she? I’m losing my mind!

Soraya snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Focus. If you lose it here you’ll lose it in there and then we’re _both_ fucked. I’ll leave you both in there if I have to.”

She must think I’m freaking out about the impending gun violence. I’m not, really. Not as much as I should be, but what would she say if I tell her I think some portion of Himiko had gotten inside me and somehow woke up? “I’ll be okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

She beaches the boat, and then I help her drag it out of reach of the water. We’re going to need that to get back. It’d be a long swim otherwise, and impossible in this weather. I try to think calm thoughts and non-choppy seas. The wind lessens a little bit, and so does the rain. That has to be a coincidence. _Please_ let it be a coincidence.

It’s a long hike until we can find a way off the beach and into the facility proper. It’s pretty big, with barbwire fences and probably other defenses we can’t see. That doesn’t stop Soraya from cutting through one and letting us inside. 

Our first sign something is wrong is how easily we get into the building itself. There’s shouting in the distance and I hear gunfire. I grab Soraya’s arm. “That’s Lara! It has to be!”

“How rude,” She says. “Rescuing herself.” I can hear the grin in her voice, and I flick the safety on my gun off. I don’t have to use it, not yet. We have the advantage of surprise and she uses it well, clubbing the first man we find in the back of the head. I smash someone’s nose as we’re discovered and a scuffle breaks out. Soraya is efficient, but not brutal. She incapacitates rather than kills, though I’m sure a couple of those men will bleed out. We don’t fire a shot until we’re moving down the stairs, and then she fires three and I just...kind of spray in a panic. 

“Congratulations, you hit a wall.” She pats me on the shoulder condescendingly and then leads me the rest of the way down. We check rooms as we go, and find one with what looks like Lara’s jacket. There are three bodies. One had his forehead smashed in, but the other two were hit from behind. I feel sick.

Soraya looks through a toolbox. “They tortured her.” She points at a bloodied chair. “Come on, she has a head start on us.”

“She won’t hold back,” I warn the mercenary, grabbing Lara’s jacket. “When she gets like this, it’s her or them and she’s not going to play nice.“ I pull Lara’s jade pendant out of my pocket and squeeze my hand around it. I’d had it since last night. She rarely takes it off, but she had because it hadn’t gone with her outfit and she knew I’d tease her for it.

Now, maybe it’ll be the only thing that snaps her back to the present. Snaps her back to me. Maybe I’m going to get us killed, but I know my way around a gun. I catch the way Soraya looks at the bodies. I know what she’s thinking. It’s so, so brutal. But that’s Lara when she’s cornered.

“I don’t play nice either,” Soraya points out as she reloads a clip. “But I hope she recognizes you when it counts.”

“She’ll still be her,” I say, when we find a corridor filled with bodies and bullets. “She has to be.”


	18. Blood in the Water

  
****

Lara

I’ve yet to spot Shaw, and after the corridor kill zone I come across fewer guards. It’s easier to rely on stealth and I have to admit I get a perverse satisfaction out of feeling a man choke under my arms. This girl maybe half their weight and I’m disabling them like they’re nothing. I don’t hesitate to kill, but the count has only gone up once. 

I don’t have a bow. It sickens me to admit it, but I’d use it. Less chance of myself getting hurt, quieter kills. I wonder how many men I could have spared on the island if I’d been forced to. I push that thought out of my mind because it’ll only endanger me. The alarm has been sounded by now. I’ve probably already lost my shot at Shaw, but that’s for the best. In this mindset I’ll probably kill him, and I’d rather get him alive. 

Then there’s the blade in my hand. I’m convinced now its some kind of artifact, like the skulls or Himiko herself. And it is a _bloodthirsty_ bastard. Now that it has tasted blood, it wants more. More than I’m willing to provide it, and it knows I’m capable of it. I can feel it pressing at the edges of my mind, a drum beat set to my pulse that says _kill kill kill_. It _has_ to be the kris, because otherwise it’s me and that means I’m going mad if I haven’t already. God. Sam is too good for me. 

Thinking of her snaps me out of my stupor in time to duck into cover and let a soldier run past. I slowly slide the dagger into my belt. It’s too tempting, sitting in my hand. It amplifies impulses that are already there. Impulses that I really should talk to someone about but I know I won’t.

Shaw’s facility is like a maze, vast and full of offices and rooms. Once I’ve exhausted the warehouse areas I find the research labs. I don’t know what Shaw has been doing and as I search lab after lab there’s nothing to really tell me what I’m looking at. Biological agents? But then why are there artifacts from nearly every culture I’ve ever heard of, and even a few I’m actually unsure of? I have nothing to sketch them but my memory is really good.

I’m distracted by a Byzantine vase connected by a rat’s nest of cables to a computer when a researcher runs in. He stares at me, and I stare back. His eyes are full of fear - he’s younger than I am and probably fresh out of University. He looks like he thinks he’s going to die. He vaguely reminds me of Alex.

Sighing, I point my hammer at him, then point at a closet. “Get in there.” He hesitates, so I slam my hammer into the table, cracking the wood. “Now!”

That gets him moving, scurrying into the closet like the hounds of hell are chasing after him. I kick a chair in front of the door. I look at the vase, then the computers. Whatever they’re doing, I have to stop it. I smash it. It feels _so wrong_. It screams at me. The vase _screams_.

I all but throw the chair aside and haul the boy out of the closet, slamming him against the wall. “What are you people _doing_ here?!”

He makes a terrified sound and I’m pretty sure he soiled himself. I grit my teeth and try a little more calmly. “What are you researching?”

The boy -that’s all he really is- stammers. “En...energy transference.”

I look back at the remains of the vase. Energy. Vessels. Are they studying artifacts like the skulls, or are they trying to _make_ artifacts like the skulls? The latter is worse, far worse. Even if they haven’t been trying to make the artifacts, it isn’t beyond reason that they’re trying to pass the power down. Like Himiko to her priestesses, or to Sam.

The researcher is shaking. I let him slide down the wall and take a step back. “That vase that I smashed. Was it a recovered artifact? Or did you transfer something into it?”

“It was a concept test,” he replies, so I turn back to face him. I nod my head and gesture with my hammer to keep him speaking. He takes a breath, then continues. “From one object to another. We had a figure carved from jade, found in China at a site nearly three thousand years old. We were able to only achieve a partial transference. The next test was to be with a jade skull we found in India.”

So the skulls went beyond the Americas. These objects are world-wide, and most of them seem to be linked to some ancient ruin or city. Sam _must_ have found Paititi, then! I say nothing of this. “Where’s the jade skull.” I prod him in the chest with my hammer.

He flinches. “Two labs down!”

“Okay. Get back into that closet and pretend you never saw me.”

The vase’s shards shift behind me and I whirl around. There’s a _figure_ standing on the shards. It looks like a corpse, dessicated and thin with bleached white skin. Where it’s flesh has rotted away there’s only black spots. And its eyes are like staring into a midnight sky. It’s another copy though I don’t recognize who it’s supposed to be. The inky darkness that marks up it’s skin and makes up it’s eyes is different somehow. I can see stars.

“Oh my god...” The researcher tries to shrink into the wall. “The last one killed a dozen people!”

That explains how many soldiers this place has, then. “Do you know what it is?”

“Walking death.”

Helpful, I think. I’ve killed them before. Before I can move, its charging at me, black tendrils cutting through the air. I try to push the scientist out of the way and the creature cuts through my arm. He lands on the ground and I dodge in the opposite direction.

I watch helplessly as it runs the poor boy through and lifts him into the air. He slides down the tendrils, until he reaches the pale creature. Then it pulls his body into itself.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, drawing my handgun. I’d never intended to see him hurt. He was just doing a job here. I couldn’t save him, but I can at least put him to rest. My first bullet strikes it in the chest, but I miss the next few shots as I’m far too busy trying to avoid the same fate as that boy.

Rolling, I get behind it and empty my clip. It still doesn’t go down. This one isn’t like the ones we’ve encountered before. Is this what’s in all these artifacts? I feel the kris whispering to me, but I can’t get close enough to use it without taking a tentacle in the chest. This requires a more modern solution.

I empty the assault rifle into it. Two clips, until it stops moving and turns to black mist. I don’t wait around. I toss the empty weapon aside and run into the other labs. I _have_ to find that jade skull. The first two labs appear to be empty, but the third one has the skull just sitting in a case. I break it open, and unceremoniously dump it into a pack.

There’s a map in there of the facility. I find the way outside, and then start in that direction. The path is deserted for most of the journey, but as I creep around a corner I can hear someone. I ready myself. As they round the corner, I attack, pulling the soldier into a headlock with my left arm. My hand finds the hilt of the dagger just as something hits me in the head.

  
****

Sam

Lara doesn’t play nice. Not when her back is to the wall and her or me is in danger. I get that first hand for the first time ever. I know it’s her. I can tell from the sound of her breathing and the smell of the arm around my neck.

The air is choked from me before I can process anything else, her arm pushing against my windpipe and panic settling into me. I try to beg but I can’t make a noise. I need to beg Lara for my life but then she’s let go of me. I collapse onto the ground, grabbing my throat and trying to breath. It’s painful, my body is shaking and my vision blurry, but I catch glimpses of Lara moving. Soraya has her cornered which is probably the last place you want to have Lara be.

It would be really easy to give into the fear and distress that’s threatening to rip my heart apart. Lara’s the person I trust more than anyone else. But it’s not her fault, and I tell that to myself over and over again as I try to croak out words. Stop sounds a lot like ‘Stnnn...’ which isn’t particularly helpful.

Lara has some kind of knife. It’s wavey. I don’t remember what it’s called but Lara’s talked about them before. I don’t know where she got it but she’s aggressively keeping Soraya off guard with it. There’s a hammer in her left hand, but I’m more worried about Soraya going for a gun.

“La…” Oh my god it hurts to talk. But I try anyway, I rasp out her name. “Lara!” She doesn’t hear me, or she doesn’t recognize it as me. She’s scaring me. I pull the ski-mask off. “Lara! Lara stop! It’s me! It’s Sam! She’s with me!” I bring my hand back to my throat with a rough groan and start coughing. That’s it. If she doesn’t stop now…

But she looks back at me, then stumbles out of Soraya’s way, her weapons clattering to the floor. Oh god, I know that look. I wave my hand at her. I’m okay, Lara. I’m okay, really, you don’t need to freak out.

She just stands there numbly, her control slipping back into place like it’s automatic, but that control is a lie. The set of her shoulders, the ashen color of her skin reveal the truth. I push aside my own inner freak out and step closer to her.

“No, Sam.” Her voice is tight and strained, several pitches higher than it should be. “I _hurt_ you.”

I don’t let her get away, putting my arms around her body and pulling her face against my shoulder. “It’s okay.” We can talk about it later. We’ll need to, neither of us can afford to let this fester like some of the other things. “You didn’t know it was me. I forgive you. It’s okay.”

Shaking her head against me, I still feel Lara press closer. Every word makes my neck ache, but I really do forgive her. Her shoulders are trembling. She’s trying to hold it in. I glance over her head at Soraya, who’s nursing a slash in her arm and keeping a noticeably large distance between us. She looks at me, then rolls her eyes and turns her back.

“Sam…” Her grip around me tightens. I feel something warm and wet against my skin but I choose to be silent on that for her sake. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, sweetie. You disappeared and I was beside myself.” Even dirty, her hair is soft and a joy to stroke. I can admit it, it’s kind of like a security blanket, and I’m so getting my security out of it right now. The crazy thing is I so worried about her that I can’t process my own feelings on what just happened. I’m just so happy to see her alive. I mean, how horrible would it have been if she killed me? Besides me being dead. I don’t doubt she would have turned a gun on herself. That thought scares me so much I squeeze even tighter. “I’m never losing you again. If you can carry me down a mountain I can…”

Lara sniffles, interrupting me, and then makes this heart-wrenching sound. I hug her tighter as she sags against me. She’s a quiet sobber, it’s disturbing really. She’s shaking against me, making little painful gasps but otherwise not a sound. She’s too stubborn to really let herself go but I rub at her back and hold her and shed my own tears freely.

Yeah. She can’t ever see me freak out about being choked.

This is probably the worst place for this but even Soraya seems willing to let it happen. She’s standing guard, which I’m grateful for. Maybe the mercenary really had been our age once. She always has a bitter note in her voice whenever Reyes comes up. I want to know more. I’ll have to ask Reyes. Actually never mind that, Reyes is scary.

Turning my face back to Lara’s hair, I kiss the side of her head. She smells like herself, plus blood and dirt. I really want to check her over for injury, especially if she’s really been tortured. It leaves a sick pit in my stomach, thinking about that. But those bastards had paid for it. I pray I haven’t lost Lara to it. I’m not looking forward to more months of coaxing her back out of her shell. I’ll do it. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll do it. I just don’t want to if I don’t have to.

She lifts her head and I wipe away the tears on her cheeks. She looks okay, except for the red eyes and some bruising. I rest a hand on her arm. I don’t know if that’s her blood or someone else’s, but I don’t shy away. Her wrist is pretty messed up but I’m sure First Aid Jesus can take care of that. “Guess I’ll have to relearn the map of you, Lara. I really don’t mind.”

Lara smiles back at me. I think that’s gratitude. She should know by now there’s nothing that’ll scare me away from her. When it comes to Lara, I’m anything but shallow. I know her, I know who she is.

“We can do that once we’re safe and sound. I’m going to need a week’s soaking.” Her voice only quivers a little as she recovers her composure. She walks over and picks up her weapon, giving the knife the sort of annoyed look I give my laptop when it misbehaves. 

“So, the exit it this way,” Soraya interjects. Her tone is clipped. She’s probably a hundred percent done with our bullshit. I stick my tongue out at her. We’re not in any danger, so I’m all about having some bullshit. I earned it.

“Here.” Lara hands me a bag. I take a peek inside and make a face. Staring right back at me is a skull. A green one, this time, but I don’t think it’s emerald. Jade maybe. Hey! I’m getting better at this.

Sighing, I loop it around my arm. “Of course.”

“That’s not all,” Lara says. “But I’ll explain later. It’ll take some time and we don’t have enough of that right now..” She looks back the way she’d come, warily. I suddenly want to go in the opposite direction. The others feel the same, and we make our way back to part of the research center that Soraya and I had entered. 

Soraya goes through first, then Lara pushes me through after we get the all clear. I feel a little miffed, but both of them are more into this whole combat thing than I am. Things start going Saving Private Ryan when we’re open and exposed and rushing down towards the beach. Someone starts shooting at us, and Soraya is trying to keep us from being pinned down. But there’s someone at our boat and he has a gun and a clear line of sight to Lara. 

The semi-auto in my hands makes a sound that rings in my ears. Its all so fast. The spray of blood, the man falling face-first into the water, the expression on Lara’s face. I look at Lara, feeling my stomach turn. I breath quickly, in and out, in and out. 

The mercenary shoves us both into the boat and we speed away. I hug my knees, resting my chin on them. I feel Lara’s arm around me and we lean into each other. It’s a comfort, a mutual sort. She whispers something in my ear. She tells me it’ll be okay, and I almost believe her. But damn, she’s hurting too. I’m so tired of the both of us always hurting.

I turn my head and I kiss her. I don’t have any words. I need to know that this is the same, that we’re still connected and we’re still both alive and human and not hopeless. Her lips move against mine and we speak silent prayers for each other.


	19. Coming Down

Sam is supposed to be the thing that helps me keep my humanity, but how can she do that if she’s losing hers? But when she’s close and we’re not in danger I can feel myself becoming less the animal. I look at her, taking in her scent and the pain in her eyes. I don’t want her to become like me. But that kill was easier and she knows it, too. And I have another thought. It’s a terrible one, really. Part of me wants her to harden, just a little. Maybe she needs to. No, she definitely needs to. The places we go, the things we have to do… If she wants to be by my side, she has to accept the things that I do. I _need_ her to be able to accept them.

I’m not as hard as I like to think I am. I stare at her neck and grimace, my heart sinking. I have to control my emotions before they overwhelm me again. I’d hurt her. I’d hurt my Sam and I’ll never forgive myself for that. By all rights I should put a hundred kilometers between the two of us and keep that distance. For her safety and my sanity. I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. It took me a year after Yamatai to even start to feel human again. I want to cry, because I don’t want to go through all of that again. Because I regressed so easily and I have to claw my way out of the mire again. But I’ve done enough crying today. 

The mercenary...I don’t know her and I don’t know if I like her, but I suppose I owe her my thanks. I shift (slightly) out of Sam’s grasp and hold out my hand to her. “Thank you.”

Her grip is firm, but the handshake is pretty short. I wonder what she thinks, but I find I don’t care and my grip around Sam tightens a little. The water is rough and the sky is cloudy, but it seems like whatever storm had accompanied them has passed.

Soraya brings us to shore, then once Sam and I are out she takes the boat a hundred yards out and scuttles it. Not a bad idea. I take the opportunity to inspect Sam, and she seems to have the same idea about me. So I touch her face and force her to look at me. “Thank _you_.” I don’t have to say why or for what. She understands.

“I uhm… I’m sorry. For taking off like I did. I just…”

“You want to talk about that _now_!?” I look at her, unable to keep the sheer disbelief off of my face. “I’m the one that should be apologizing! I was out of line, Sam, and-”

She gives me a sour look back. “You’re forgiven, but you don’t have to be so shocked about it!”

“I’m sorry. I never…” I sigh, exasperated, and pull her closer, locking my eyes on hers. “We need to talk about it, when we’re safe because right here isn’t... I still need you to know I … I think maybe I need to know I didn’t push you away.”

“You didn’t. You’re stuck with me. Forever into old age with a dozen cats and a corgie.”

When she says ‘forever’ I remember something and my hand goes into my pocket, searching. The ring is still there and I sigh in relief. It wouldn’t have been hard for them to have taken it from me, and then I’d have to swim back to get it. And I would have, because it was my mother’s, and because I want to give it to Sam someday. I’m still questioning why I brought it with me.. Had I intended to propose on the spot? I should have left it in the vault but I hadn’t wanted to be suspicious when I went in to retrieve it. Or maybe I should just admit to myself I didn’t what know had been going through my mind.

“When the two of you are done eye-fucking, we need to get out of here.” Soraya walks past us, dripping wet from the ocean. I don’t like the way she looks at Sam. I feel this possessive instinct take hold of me and my fingers dig into Sam’s hip. She notices, but I ignore her look and stare daggers into Soraya’s back.

Mine.

Sam elbows me. She has a smile on her face that’s knowing. She’s amused. I’m not, but I try to relax and keep my voice down. “I don’t like the way she looks at you. You’re more than a piece of meat.” Especially after our fight, I _really_ need to tell her that.

Not answering me, Sam steps out of my grip and walks after the purple-haired woman. I keep glaring, until Sam looks over her shoulder and winks at me. It’s such a mundane concern after the day we’ve just had that I let out a short laugh. She’s bouncing back. That’s good. 

Once we’re in the vehicle and driving away, I close my eyes. I want to just sink into this chair in the back and pass out. There are parts of me in pain that I’ve forgotten were even a part of my body, but I can’t rest just yet. I eye Soraya in the driver’s seat. “How much do you know about...any of this, really?”

“You don’t recognize me? New Zealand? It was a long time ago for both of us. You weren’t much higher than my knee at the time, and a lot cuter.” She leans over to fiddle with the radio, which seems odd to me right now. “But I don’t blame you being cautious.

“She worked with your dad, Lara! And oh my god did you know your butler is Soup Jesus?” The sheer enthusiasm in Sam’s voice makes my head spin, but as soon as Sam says it I realize that I do remember Soraya. At least a little bit. 

“You were with Roth, weren’t you? I remember when I first met him, there were some others. Grim was one.” Reyes hadn’t been there, I was sure. And Soraya’s hair hadn’t been purple then. “And a woman.” I glance at Sam and mouth ‘soup Jesus?’ She only grins at me.

Soraya laughs. It’s a gruff sound. “That’s why I’m here. Reyes called in a favor.” She shrugs. Her tone is dismissive but there’s something in her voice that sounds like fondness. She did this for Roth. I understand it, and it reopens an ache in my chest.

“I’m sorry. About Roth.”

The mercenary scoffs. I see her eyes look back at me through the mirror. “Don’t be. Knowing him he got himself knocked off being a big goddamn hero. Man always did have a soft spot for your family.” 

“Yeah, he did.” Both for how he died, and for the soft spot he had for me and my parents. He never told me the story of how they’d met and I’m almost desperate enough to ask if she knows, but she speaks before I can.

“Then treat his decision with the respect it deserves.” 

Her tone makes me sit up straight, and I can see Sam do the same thing. “I don’t think anyone ever put it that way before,” I admit.

“Someone _really_ ought to tell Reyes that,” Sam adds, and I wince. It doesn’t make it any less true, but that was still a bit blunt.

But Soraya doesn’t look offended. In fact, she laughs. “Oh, I did, when I talked to her, but she is stubborn and the kind of person who needs to come to terms on their own. I’m sure she’s realized that.”

“Just never try to tell it to her face,” I finish. Reyes and I had an interesting relationship. It was adversarial but I think we’ve moved into respecting each other more than anything else. Sam still thinks she resents me for playing at Roth’s daughter when Alisha never got to know him, but I don’t think that’s the case. At least not entirely so. People are complicated and most of their motivations are a mystery even to them. God knows I don’t fully understand half the things I do myself.

“You’ve had to deal with her under fire, so obviously you understand,” the mercenary replies. It feels as though we’ve broken the ice, or maybe it’s every inch we’re putting between us and that research facility. “Now, you found something in that place, didn’t you?”

I nod my head. “They’re researching artifacts. Objects with unusual power. The kris I found - which has a fascinating style of engraving on it and the hilt is from a different location and time period than the-”

“Lara. Focus.”

“Right, Sam. Sorry. You remember the ritual on Yamatai, to transfer Himiko’s soul into a receptive vessel? Namely you? They’re attempting it with these objects. Transferring powers, possibly souls from one to another. These objects, maybe they were people once. The kris certainly enjoys stabbing people.”

“We encountered something like it in Havana once,” Soraya interjects. “Also a blade. Bloodythirsty bastards.”

I have to agree, and make a note to ask about that too. Really, I have a thousand questions for Soraya. About my father and mother and their adventures, about Roth. I have a lot of questions about Roth. His death is still fresh, even after a few years. I have quesitons about whatever insane things they might have found that might help me feel less like I’m floundering about. My greatest fear, before Yamatai, was getting the same label my father did. Delusional. Crazy. God, but I feel that way sometimes, except I’ve seen with my own eyes that the stories of my father were true. Soraya is a link to that, however tenuous. 

“There’s a lot of questions I have when we have time,” I say. “I know you’re not here for that or anything, but I’d be grateful for any information.”

“When we get a chance we’ll crack open a bottle or two and I’ll share all sorts of stories.” Our eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. I see someone I could be in twenty years, maybe. I guess she’s less gruff when threats aren’t immediate.

Sam makes a sound in the back of her throat, so I put my hand on her shoulder as she says, “I like the sound of that! So like… we could have shoved Himiko it a sword or something?”

“I don’t see why not. But there’s something you really need to know. There was one of those shadow people there. It came out of a byzantine vase, and it was a lot harder to kill than the ones from the ruins?”

“Shadow people?”

“Yes.” I describe them, leaving no detail out, and Soraya’s brow furrows. Those things are creepy, and I want to convey that as much as possible.

“I can’t say I’ve ever encountered one of those but I’ve been out of the tomb business for a number of years now.” I can emphasize. I really hate tombs sometimes.

I close my eyes, resting my forehead against the window. “Well, they’re related to these artifacts, and those faces in the ruins, there’s no denying that. The question is how, or why.”

“Do you think the stone people are guardians?” Sam asks. She turns in her seat and I feel her take my hand. I manage a smile.

“Probably.”

“Stone people are also new to me.” Soraya clucks her tongue, but my eyes are still closed and I can’t see her expression. “You really are your father’s daughter.”

“A few years ago she would have hit you for saying that.”

“I would not!”

Sam’s finger pokes my hand and I don’t protest beyond that. No, I wouldn’t hit anyone over it, but yes, I’d be upset. Roth raised me. He’s more my father than Richard Croft ever was. Now though…Now I don’t know. My father wants to tell me something. I need to look through the vault. And we need to get to Egypt, but I’m too tired to think that far ahead right now.

I bring Sam’s hand to my lips and kiss her fingers. She’s okay. Thank god, she’s okay.

I’m nipping at a fingertip a little when lightning hits the ground next to us and Soraya nearly swerves off the road.


	20. We Are All Broken

I’m ready for a thousand naps, but Lara has to do this thing with her lips on my fingers and it’s distracting, okay? She looks a little out of it and I think it’s time to stop asking questions until we’re all recovered, or at least rested. Because recovery is going to take awhile. 

She does that thing with her tongue and the tip of my finger that makes me shiver and sends all those bad thoughts fleeing away, but right about then there’s lightning and I think I pee my pants a little. Soraya recovers quickly enough but I’m looking back at the scorch in the road and then at Lara, who’s eyes are about as wide as mine and I’m pretty sure she pee’d a little too, because her skin is a little paler and she looks like she has something deep and meaningful and terrible to say so I shush her. “Can we just get to some place with a warm shower and Soup Jesus?”

“Okay Sam, who the hell is Soup Jesus?”

“Winston. He produced soup out of nowhere, like a ninja.” Okay, so ninja and Jesus are two different things but hey, maybe Jesus was a ninja, you never know!

“He was always pretty good at that,” she concedes. “If I was sick or hurt, he’d have just the right sort of remedy always on hand.”

“You should see how he fixed up my arm!” I roll my sleeve up, only then remembering the blue marks, but it’s like Lara doesn’t see them. She’s focused on the bandage instead, and half reaches to touch it before stopping, since she’s still pretty messed up with blood and dirt. “I’m okay, Lara. I pulled the bullet out myself.”

The car swerves again and I catch Soraya giving me a surprised look. I look at her, then at Lara, and both are actually gaping at me. “I’m not totally useless you know.”

Lara’s expression softens and she’s smiling again. “No, you’re not useless.” She digs around in her pockets, then takes on a distressed look. She pulls out what looks like syringes and looks at them. “Right. They shot me up with this stuff and said it was heroin. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t something else.”

“Let me see that.” Soraya reached behind and Lara handed her the needles. I’m still in shock. I can’t believe they had her on something and she was still able to do everything she did back at that place.

I don’t know how addictive that stuff is. The hardest I’ve ever done is pot and some ecstasy, but I knew a guy at University who had been on the stuff. That only makes me more scared for Lara. She must have sensed my apprehension because she takes my hand again.

“I’ll be fine, Sam. I wanted to hand that over before I decided it was a good idea to keep it.” She smiles at me again and I nod at her. I’m going to call up our doctor and get her some blood work done to make sure she didn’t pick up anything from it. It’s a miracle she never got anything from Yamatai. Hepetitis or worse. 

“Probably a good idea.” The mercenary waggled the syringes in the air. “Whatever this is, can’t be good. Do you know how many times they shot you up?”

“Two times. Maybe three. They’d beat me, shoot me up, then wait awhile before doing it again.” She closes her eyes. The adrenaline has to have left her. The downer from that plus the stuff in those syringes has to be tough. I bite my lip.

“I’ll make you an appointment, sweetie. Blood work and check up.” I want to turn back around and… I don’t know. Do something. I’m so pissed at what they did to her I can’t see straight. I try to calm down. Lara is safe and has enough sense to hand that stuff over. It’s not like she’s ever gotten hooked on all the painkillers she’s had to be shot up with before.

She makes a face at me, and I make a face back. “We’ll figure out an explanation, don’t you worry!”

One of the terrible things about what we’ve gotten mixed up in is trying to explain things without looking like lunatics. Yamatai had been hard enough, but there had been some intense interest from the Japanese government that had give us some credibility. I’m not sure we really have that when it comes to Peru. And today is going to be even harder. I really don’t want to get locked up.

“Shaw isn’t going to want to publicize this,” Lara pointed out. “And we can just say some gang roughed me up. I got away because I’m who I am. I’ve got the bruises.”

I start to protest but Soraya agrees with her. “That’ll keep most noses off the trail. Your father had some tricks that will work too and I’ll start working on those.”

“About my father…”

“Later. I promise.”

Lara lays her head back against the seat with a sigh but doesn’t push. I don’t either. I just want this to all go away for awhile. “If we need to handle the media. Let me do that, okay? It’s kind of my area of expertise.”

We make it back to the manor after another hour in the car. That hour had been a lot quieter. We’d stopped long enough for me to crawl into the back with Lara. I didn’t care how it looked. I just have to be closer to her. I’m able to think about the day a little more clearly now. And my actions throughout it. All of our actions.

I’ll never be like Lara, I’ll never have a part of me that can just unleash the Kraken on all my enemies. Not in the same way. Sure, I can get pissed and be really vicious if I need to be, but systematically taking down a dozen men isn’t one of them. It’s not in my nature. I’m a lover, not a fighter.

Lara though. I watch her as we drive. She’s deep in thought, probably reflecting like I am. She has an animal inside of her. It was born in the wreck of the Endurance. Honed and bloodied on Yamatai. She just wants to explore, but with those explorations come a lot of dangers we hadn’t been expecting.

It takes another hour at the manor before we’re all cleaned up. Soraya offers to take the syringes to someone she knows and Winston has already made the arrangements to get Lara checked out. Soup Jesus strikes again.

With food in our bellies, story time and drinks are just going to have to wait. We’ll have to trust Soraya to share her stories tomorrow. I want that syringe tested and I want to get Lara into bed. She doesn’t put up much of a protest, which is worrisome all on it’s own.

I sit on Lara’s bed, not bothering to ask why she picked her old bedroom instead of the master. I get it. I know. There’s this _adorable_ velveteen rabbit on the pillow. I pick it up and hug it, watching Lara move around the room.

Her eyes tell me everything. This isn’t over. This is a puzzle that she’s going to crack. She sits next to me and I nuzzle her. “I’m with you. Whatever happens. If they’re really trying to locate more things like the Sun Queen then we have to stop it.”

Chuckling, Lara snuggles in. She has to be as exhausted as I am. “You saved my life today.”

“Pffft. Did not. I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. Soraya did all the work.” We’re both dancing around the last bullets of the day. Our fingers thread together and I squeeze her hand. 

“I’ll try not to make this into a thing,” She promises, and I laugh. I’m making good on my promise to make it up to her for what she did on Yamatai, but she did pretty much rescue herself today, no matter what she thinks. But I’ll appreciate it if she doesn’t make it a thing.

“Next time you rescue me,” I tell her. “Like a little trade off.” I get off the bed but hold up a finger. I pull my shirt off then help Lara out of hers. We slide under the covers and I rest my head against her shoulder. She has a dozen new bruises and cuts, and I rest my hand on the big scar on her stomach, tracing it lightly. It’s calming. I’m the only one that she lets get away with touching or looking at her scars. I’ll bet it calms her too.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft in my ear. “About what I said. I don’t really think we just shag our way out of arguments. I know it’s important to you, and it’s important to me. I really don’t want you to think I don’t want it or that you ever pressure me or-”

“Shush.” I lift my head and put my finger to her lips. “I’m a horndog and I know it. I’ve always worried that something was wrong with me.” I press my finger harder against her mouth because she wants to protest but I’m not done talking.

“For such a long time sex became just...something I did, because it was just something I did. It was fun but so _empty_. And then you kissed me and it’s like I woke up again.” I move my finger, and Lara looks at me with soulful eyes. “It’s not empty when it’s with you. We had that fight and I was suddenly wondering if I was right all along.”

“Oh god…” She looks so crestfallen that I stroke her face. “Sam, I’m so sorry. There’s _nothing_ wrong with you. I’m the person that’s broken. You weren’t wrong about me. I _am_ a killer, an _animal_...But I’m selfish. I can’t let you go. I think about it and the idea kills me.”

“Well that’s good, because I’m not going anywhere, sweetie. That part of you is...a part of you now, and one that I have to accept, too. But it doesn’t make you a bad person or a monster or anything like that.” I don’t move my eyes from hers and feel her hand on my cheek. I nuzzle it. “I still love you. I love all of you, all the good parts and even the parts you think are bad. And your annoying parts.”

That makes her laugh. Sure, there is plenty wrong with both of us. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong _between_ us now.


	21. Four Winds

After a week I’m itching to get going. I’ll feel better once we have all of this behind us. I think I’ll feel better just walking among cities long dead. Living cities are sometimes too much for me. I worry about withdrawals, but it’s not as bad as it was coming down from the painkillers after my leg was broken. Sam has the same worries, since she watches me like a hawk.

I spend most of my time in my father’s study, poring over my notes and his notes and his journal. I need to know if there are easier ways to interrupt the transference ritual. And I need to know if there’s a way to draw the power out of something without pulling a soul out, too. Because I have some suspicions about Sam that I haven’t yet voiced to her and can barely stand to voice to myself. I hope I’m wrong, but I want to be prepared in case I’m not. I can’t lose Sam to something that happened nearly three years ago. Three years that sometimes feels like just a fortnight ago.

There are several numbers that keep coming up in our combined research. My father kept finding one-hundred and eight. I’ve seen a lot of seven, and thirteen. Seven of course is a very common number among many religions and cultures, and thirteen has it’s own significance. One-hundred eight is less well known but pretty important in some parts of the world as well. I think there are seven skulls, thirteen powerful artifacts, and one hundred and eight all told. Combining the theories actually solves several issues I have with them when they’re separate.

I’m scribbling down my new theory when a pair of bare legs obstructs my view as Sam sits on the desk. She’s wearing incredibly short shorts and a tight t-shirt. I admire her before I look up at her face. “Can I help you?”

“Get your nose out of your books, we’re going out.” She has this determined look on her face, but I open my mouth to protest anyway. It’ll be a losing battle, I already knowm but I have to put up a token resistance or she’ll think she can get away with anything.

“I’m working! I think I have a theory about the artifacts and I need to get it down.”

She whips out an envelope and waves it in the air. “Blood test came in! We’re going to celebrate you being healthy as a horse!”

I grab it out of her hands. It’s already been opened, of course, but I want to see it with my own eyes. I sink into my chair with a relieved sigh as a weight in my stomach lightens. “Oh thank god. You have no idea...”

“I don’t?” She leans forward, which gives me an amble view down her shirt. “You keep waking up, you haven’t been eating well…”

“That happened after Yamatai too,” I point out, her fingers on my ear distracting me. “But I’m adjusting much faster, thanks to you and Winston.”

“He’s Ticket Jesus. He got our trip to Cairo taken care of while you were in here geeking out. We’re taking a boat, and I know you want to get there quickly but I think Shaw’ll be expecting us to go by plane, and Soraya knows a person who knows a person so we’re taking a boat and the bastard won’t even know we’re gone until we’ve already swept in under his nose!”

I stare at her incredulously, trying to make sense of all that. “And how is taking a boat that’ll take an extra week going to ensure we get anywhere first?”

“Because you’re a genius and we both know Shaw doesn’t know where exactly to look.” And from the expression on her face she thought I knew where to look. I didn’t, really, but I don’t disabuse her from the notion. I need to get there first before I could figure out what direction to head in.

“And this has nothing whatsoever to do with any desire to sun yourself on deck? You realize it might be a little chilly until we get closer to Cairo right? You’ll freeze your toes off.”

She laughs, and it raises my spirits. “Hey, that’s only a _bonus_! I’m taking this seriously, you know. Now finish writing your thingie and put on something a little more revealing.”

I indulge her, because this is her way of coping. I enjoy our night out too.

It feels like blasphemy when I step onto the deck of a ship that’s not Roth’s, but here we are. I’m dragging three gigantic suitcases behind me, mostly filled with Sam’s things. This explains the boat, she didn’t want to make the airliner crash from her luggage. These things weigh a _ton_. It’s like she’s packed for a world tour!

Sam has her camera out and is filming everything. I stash our things and come onto deck to watch her. She’s stronger than I am, or maybe she’s just more resilient. Either way, she has my back and that means everything to me.

Most of the faces are unfamiliar. I spot Soraya talking to a broad-shouldered man, then decide I need a better view. I want to see everyone. So I effortlessly scramble up to the top of the wheel house, and then plop myself down. Winston said there is a crew of twelve, plus the two of us and Soraya.

The man she’s talking to is tall, with wide shoulders, dark skin and a weathered face. He has a jacket covered in patches. I crane my neck to see what flag we’re flying since he has about three dozen on his jacket. Ghana. The _Four Winds_ is well taken care of and seems pretty new, or at least she has been recently refitted.

The rest of the crew comes and goes as supplies are loaded. We’re really just hitching a ride as little more than well-paying cargo. I plan to stay out of the way and let them do their jobs. And keep Sam from getting in the way too much too. I grimace. She probably packed some skimpy suits for us, like this is some kind of holiday. It’s cold enough to consider a long-sleeved shirt, but that probably won’t stop her when we’re farther south.

Of the twelve crew, three are women. One makes her way into the wheel house, and I catch her eye as she walks past. She’s short, shorter than Sam and with lighter skin, but stocky. She has this gorgeous auburn hair and a pleasant smile. 

Most of the crew is about what I expected. I doubt even half of them are from the same country and they all look experienced. While I don’t think we’ll sail into any storms, it’s still a good feeling. I watch them work, and before long England disappears over the horizon and there’s adventure ahead.

We’re three days into the trip when I get up early in the morning, thinking I can get my exercises out of the way before anyone else is up. Our cabin is tiny and cramped, but I’ve slept in worse. Sam’s not in bed, and as I come out from below decks I see why. She’s lounging on the bow next to Soraya, and they’re both wearing swimsuits that really ought to be illegal. When I see Soraya slathering lotion on Sam I decide that’s _quite enough_ and nearly storm over. But I change my mind. I can trust her. 

But I can’t trust the mercenary and maybe I need to remind Sam of what she has before I throw Soraya overboard, though Sam would probably suggest we wrestle in jello. I try to get that mental picture out of my mind as I change back in the cabin, because it really doesn’t serve any use and is _incredibly_ inappropriate.

My own suit is a lot more modest. I’m not fond of showing off the scar on my stomach. Or very many of my scars for that matter. They’re my memories, and they’re Sam’s territory. I know that sounds a little crazy but each scar is associated with a memory. Once they’d been terrible memories, but over time and a lot of work on Sam’s part, I’ve started to associate them with good memories. The sound of her breathing, the smell of her hair and the feel of her fingers tenderly stroking as we drift off to sleep.

So I wear a one piece, and stride out onto deck, realizing it’s a little chilly as I do but it’s too late now. I’m pleased to notice Sam turning around and staring. She pulls her sunglasses down, gaping a little as I drop gracefully down next to her. 

“Oh my god you’re actually wearing it!”

“Well I can’t compete with the two of you,” I tell her, stretching and reaching for the lotion. I give Soraya a hard look and she smirks back at me. Sam looks between us and then rolls her eyes. She hands Soraya a wad of cash and I squint at them and wonder when they’d made _that_ bet.

Soraya is… well she’s stunning. She’s less marked up than I am when it comes to scars, but there are colorful tattoos running up her back and around her left hip and thigh in a myriad of patterns. She’s lean and muscular, and I suddenly understand Sam’s fixation on my abs. Sam, who just caught me staring and has this triumphant look on her face. I glower and then get up. This was a stupid idea, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I never could stand to watch her flirt with people. Especially as we’re likely to draw an audience at some point and I really don’t want a bunch of sailors offering to rub things on me.

“Lara…” Sam catches my hand and I look into her eyes. _Trust me_ , they tell me. “Relax. Please. In a week we’re going to be lost in the desert, probably getting shot at.”

“Romantic,” Soraya quips, leaning back and closing her eyes. I can’t help another glare in her direction, but Sam moves into my view and I feel a little sheepish.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, but you don’t have to be..” She kisses me before I can deny it. I still can’t believe this gorgeous, glamourous woman wants to be with me, so I feel a little threatened when someone is hitting on her. I’m not sure what’s worse - a man or a woman. A man because she might decide she wants to go back to that, or a woman because I’m supposed to be _her_ woman.

I get to my feet, picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder, patting her on the rear as I carry her back below decks. She kicks her legs and laughs. I trust her with my heart but a little reminder never hurts. I hear someone catcall, but I don’t care.

Sam is beautiful. I know the word in a half-dozen languages and none of them really do her justice. Her hair is this amazing mixture of soft and shiny, and her skin is like touching silk. It doesn’t take much to get that bikini off of her and onto the cabin floor. I push her down onto the tiny bed and worship her with my hands and with my lips. I drink in the taste of her and let the sound of her voice lodge itself deep inside of me.

Just a few weeks ago I’d hurt her. The bruises are mostly gone from her throat, but as we lay there recovering, I fixate on her neck. There are two places I really like to kiss when we lay like this. Her shoulder is one, and her neck is the other, but I’m afraid to. My hand inches up towards her throat, brushing the delicate skin there. I feel her stiffen and yank my hand away, but she catches my wrist and pulls my hand back to her neck. She holds it there, shivering against me slightly, and I press my lips against the skin of her shoulder.

Baby steps. Little strokes and caresses. Just like a scar.


	22. A Simple Question

This morning I’m up before Lara, which is a miracle since the woman is usually up at the ass crack of dawn. But I’m hoping to get a little sunning in and maybe drive some of the crew crazy because it’s fun. A little flirting is harmless. Besides, I really need to improve my mental space. Running away from my problems? Yes sir! 

What I’m not expecting is Soraya to already be up and on deck. Her swimsuit leaves little to the imagination, but it’s her skin that tells a story. That’s the interesting thing about scars. I wonder what that big one on her back is, nestled in her tattoo. The ink covers most of her back and depicts a rich tapestry of color and shapes. It seems to be abstract at first, but the longer I stare, the more it starts to make sense. It curves around and into the bottom of her bikini, and then wraps around her hip. I wonder if it means something special. It’s so prominent, it has to mean _something._

I get closer, sitting casually and looking at the ocean rather than her. I’m attracted. I’m not dead. And it’s actually really chilly so I’m determined to not look anywhere near her right now. This probably wasn’t the best idea this time of year. But if she can handle it I can handle it. Then she’s leaning a little closer and holding up the lotion. Duh. That’s stupid of me to forget. “Oh! Good idea! Can you get my back?”

It’s innocent from me, but the look on her face isn’t. It’s a little too late now so I turn my back to her so that she can get to it. I’ve had enough guys do this to me over the years to know when someone is making a move, and Soraya is making all sorts of moves. It feels _good_ too. 

Then Lara sits down next to us and takes the lotion away and I almost forget Soraya is even there. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find a suit for Lara that would show off how sexy she is while still helping her modesty. She was modest to begin with but her scars only make that situation worse. I hadn’t expected her to wear it during what she thinks is ‘work time’ but her legs are going on forever and there’s that fold where her leg meets her pelvis. I’m drooling. I hope she doesn’t notice.

I don’t think she did because she glares at Soraya and I roll my eyes. I’ve lost a bet with Soraya but it’s so worth it. Lara is hot when she’s jealous, but I need her to trust me. She’s giving me this look, so I try to reassure her. I’m not expecting it when she picks me up. I think she’s going to throw me over her shoulder which would have been _so hot_ and then she throws me over her shoulder and it’s _so hot_. I’m a little relieved because it was a lot colder than I’d been expecting. I want my hands all over her to warm us up. She doesn’t give me the chance at first.

I’ve kind of forgotten my own name by the time I’m coming off of my high. That was some seriously life-affirming love making and I grin to myself as I feel her lips on my shoulder. Once, I caught her nibbling there when she thought I was asleep. Her sheep-dog caught in the act look is the most adorable thing, ever.

Her fingers creep up, caressing at me, and then she brushes them against my neck. I can’t help it and I stiffen. There’s this fear that rushes through me in an instant, and when I recover I can feel Lara pulling her hand back. I grab it. My body is trembling as I bring her fingers back to my throat. Blood pounds in my ears but I make her touch me, and then I let her touch me. I did this for her one scar at a time until she stopped flinching when I touched her. Baby steps.

It’s like ten minutes before I really start to relax. I shift in closer to her, and play with her hair. I’d taken it out of it’s tail sometime in the middle of everything and it moves loosely through my fingers. Her hair really is a marvel. She smells like sex and sweat and old dusty things and it’s the best thing in the world right now.

She’s peeking up at me. I grin at her when her fingers still. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t stop, please?”

They start stroking again, and she closes her eyes. I sigh. When I open mine again her face is inches from mine, so I kiss her. I can taste myself, but that never bothers me. Lara pushes me down and I find her right hand with my left and our fingers thread together. I love when that happens. It feels so natural and Lara once told me that it was one of the reasons she knew we belonged together. Because it’s never awkward and they fit together like we are made for each other.

Maybe we’re going to go again and I’m not complaining. I still need to get her back for earlier. I arch beneath her, kissing at her jawline (and I can gush about her jawline if you give me half the chance) when she slides off of me.

Okay did I do something wrong? I sit up and look at her. “Lara?”

“Shit…” She’s fishing through her clothing and I’m not sure why. She has everything I need right there and the view is perfect. My mind starts going to really dirty places and I wonder if she packed something naughty. I really hope she packed what I think she packed. She’s muttering to herself in cutest fashion, so I rest my face on my hand and keep watching.

“This isn’t how I wanted...where is it? There... I really should have…” She’s found whatever she was looking for and is standing there in the tiny tiny cabin next to the bed. I kind of hope that Soraya doesn’t come in any time soon. She has the top bunk but she probably knows what we’re up to. 

“Sweetie, what is it?” She’s sometimes pretty shy at first when it comes to trying new things, but I’ve never seen her like this. She turns around, face red, hands clenched tightly around something.

“I wanted to do this right, you know, but we’re headed towards danger and adventure, and there’s probably no place with the proper atmosphere where we’re going and I’m not really sure how this would go over at Abou el Sid anyway…” Her throat bobs while she babbles, then she kneels next to the bed and looks up at me with a nervous expression. But she’s stubborn and determined and just rushes right into it. And I mean literally rush, since she’s barely stopping to breathe. “The first time I ever saw you I knew you were someone special, Sam. It just took me years to truly understand why, and now that I do I don’t want to waste any time.”

I think she’s still talking, but I can’t hear it except as a distant murmuring. I can’t breathe because that’s a ring she’s holding up and I feel like my head is going to pop and holy shit it sparkles!

 _Lara Croft_ is proposing and I can’t even believe it. I hadn’t been kidding when I said it had been something I thought I’d never have. 

“...to dress up and take you out, do this right. Treat you … traditionally but it’s going to be a… Sam, are you listening?”

“Yes!” I snap out of it and grin down at her. She’s still wide-eyed and nervous looking, so I lean down and kiss her. She squeaks against my mouth but I’m not letting her go until our lips are sore. 

She mumbles something and I break the kiss to look at her. She looks a little amused, but she clears her throat and tries again. “Sam, will you marry me?”

I just said yes but I guess she really really wanted to say it. And I guess I really wanted to hear it, because I start crying. My throat tightens and I just have to nod my head at her because suddenly I can’t find the words. I pull her back into the bed and bury my face into her chest. Her arms hold me close and tight and I feather my lips against her skin.

When I think I can look her in the face again, she’s beaming at me. It’s like a light that shines into my soul and pushes all the darkness away. She doesn’t say anything, just pushes that ring onto my finger. It’s not the super traditional proposal she’d no doubt would have planned out to the finest detail, but it’s still distinctly _her_. Awkward and a little flaily. The ring feels weird on my finger but it sparkles and I get distracted as I wriggle my finger around to watch it reflect the light. It looks pretty old. Not old and nasty but old and...elegant. The diamond is clearly high quality.

I start giggling and I can’t stop. 

She strokes my face, her grin about as painfully big as mine. “I love you. You should have let me finish, I’m supposed to finish before you say yes.”

“I let you finish, Sweetie.” Ugh. I sound like a frog. I blame the emotions. “I just...you’re so sneaky! I thought you’d be a lot more obvious if you were ever thinking about this!”

“I really wanted to do dinner,” she replies, a little sadly. I shake my head and cup her face in both of my hands. 

“No! No it was _perfect!_ It was sweet and it was _you_. It was so you. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“At sea, halfway between London and Cairo in a cramped cabin and completely starkers?” She gives me an incredulous look.

“Awkward and adorable,” I retort, and she turns red again. I shift us on the bed until she’s under me and I’ve got her shoulders pinned to the hard mattress. “And beautiful. Sexy. Hot. Smart. Funny. You’re the perfect woman, Lara.” I lean back and grin at her. “Sam Croft. Sam Croft-Nishimura. Sam Nishimura-Croft.”

“Whatever you want, Sam. I’m not going to force you to change your name if you don’t want to.”

Leaning back down I nuzzle the tip of her nose with the tip of mine. “We’ve got some time to think about it, since we’re not exactly going to be able to elope until we’re back home, and I want a big motherfucking wedding. It’s required. I probably shouldn’t wear white.”

“You’re wearing white.” She has this stubborn look in her eyes and I could argue the point, but it’s not worth fighting over this. She wants me in white she’ll get me in white. And I think about it and bite my lip.

“I’ll wear white if we can get you into a tux.”

She squints at me, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking until she says, “I think we need to set a budget right n-”

I put my hand over her mouth. “Oh no. We’re doing this right and it’s the bride’s family that does all this stuff and I’m the bride remember?” I don’t know how my parents are going to handle this or if my dad’ll disown me or something, but my mom kind of found out about me and Lara on accident. I made her swear to let me talk to my dad first and I know she’ll keep that promise. It’s not like they talk to each other much.

They’re actually a big reason why I never thought I’d get married. I mean what’s the point if you’re just going to be distant with each other? But they loved each other once, hadn’t they? I’ll die if me and Lara turn into that.

I let go of Lara’s mouth and smile nervously at her. “Is that okay? I mean...I know how you are about money. But I...think I really want to make this special.”

“I know, and while I reserve the right to joke about the expense, I only have one request.” She holds up her finger.

“Okay! What is it?”

“Can we keep the guest list as small as possible? Less is more, Sam. Less than _twenty_.”

That probably meant less than a hundred and we could probably work with that. The media attention is going to be intense considering who my father is and the fame that surrounded Yamatai. I’m sure she’s not even close to ready for that but it’s my job to handle all of that for her. “I’ll talk my mother into something small. Small for her, anyway.” 

“What about your father?” She pulls me down and I rest my cheek against her clavicle. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess. Maybe he’ll even be cool with it.” Stranger things have happened, but right now I don’t even care. I’m just so stoked.


	23. Our Own Dance

Sam spends most of the rest of the trip in a happy haze, and truth be told I find it hard to concentrate on my notes and research too. We need to make contacts and I have a rough plan of where to start looking, but like so much of our experiences with these artifacts there’s a lot of guess work involved. We’re getting led by the ear and it’s not an experience I particularly like.

If Soraya notices our mood she mercifully doesn’t point it out, even when Sam just stands at the railing making her engagement ring sparkle in the sun. She’s one of the most intelligent people I know but hand her something sparkly and it’ll distract her for an hour. 

I do get some ribbing from the captain and treats us to his secret stash the last night we’re at sea. He’s actually a really sweet man, despite his size. The gentle giant type with a big smile and a dry wit. He extracts a promise of a wedding invitation out of the both of us before we dock.

Sam is on the phone as we make our way to our hotel. I can hear snippets of the conversation and I know she’s talking to Jonah, but she is clearly dancing around the subject of me and her. I turn my eyes away from her (a hard enough task) and examine our surroundings as we approach the hotel. We’ve selected one that is low key, as we are only going to be in Cairo for a day or two while Soraya makes some contacts and I dig around the library and museum. I hate to admit it, but the mercenary has proven useful and very enlightening. Oddly enough, it’s not the stories about Roth and my father that I like the most. It’s what she tells me about my mother. We have the same ‘stance’, but she wouldn’t elaborate when pressed.

I take the phone from Sam, ignoring her protest and holding her at bay with a hand at her forehead. “Jonah! It’s Lara. I’m saving you from your ear being talked off.”

Jonah’s laugh is a lot like being wrapped in a warm blanket and I’m immediately at ease just listening to his voice. “Little bird! How long has it been?”

“Far too long.” I still have Sam at arms length, her hands flailing towards me. But they’re shorter than mine and she’s not really trying anyway. “We’re in Cairo right now, but we have some news, and wanted you and Reyes to be the first to hear it.”

“Is it more of your adventures? Sam was filling me in on some of the interesting things you’ve found. You need to be careful, Lara. You’re playing with fire.”

Right now, I’d rather have Jonah than Reyes around, if I had to choose between the two. Reyes is handy in a fight and with machinery, but Jonah is a lot more in tune with spiritual matters and what we’re dealing with requires a less practical approach. Plus, I can hear pans banging around and know he’s preparing a meal. His food is _amazing_. 

But I move my hand as I speak, as if waving away the bad vibes. “We’re being careful. If Yamatai taught me nothing else, it’s to go into everything with my eyes open. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

The pots and pans still. Me, not wanting to talk about ancient wonders? He’s probably just a little worried. “Ah..uh, Sam and I…”

“Little Bird has realized who she wants to nest with,” he replied. I grin and laugh.

“Yes. With a ring and everything.”

“Congratulations!” His cheer is genuine and I feel some tension in my shoulders ebb. “You let me know when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you. And let us tell Reyes, please?”

“She’s all yours.”

“Jonah, you watch out for yourself, okay? And I think Sam wants her phone back so I’m going to hand you back to her.”

I don’t quite hear his response because she’s snatched the phone back and danced out of reach. She sticks her tongue out at me and I suppose everything is right with the world.

We get checked in, but don’t stay in for long. Sam says she has to stock up on something film related, leaving Soraya and I to make our way across Cairo together. We travel in silence most of the way, until she interrupts my thoughts. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Startled, I look at her. “It feels like my whole life has been leading to this. To these artifacts, this ancient mystery. I know what I’m doing, Touma.”

The other woman shrugs her shoulder, and looks straight ahead as we walk. “Then why are you leading Sam into danger? She could be hurt, or killed. She’s not ready for this, she’s not like us. Do you really want her to be like us?”

What is she getting at? I’ve had this argument with myself a hundred times and the answer is always the same. “I couldn’t leave her behind, even if I wanted to.”

“That’s what your father said about your mother.”

“And you’re the one that told me my mother was as important to his success as he was.” I’m starting to get irritated. Why bring this up now? She’s already seen Sam can hold her own. That she’s a valuable part of all of this.

“Can you imagine her moving like you do? That smooth flow in and out of combat, the pistol in her hands and the blood splatter on her face?” She jerked her head for me to follow her down another street. “Because your mother was soft until she wasn’t. You have her eyes. Not just the color, but the hardness.”

It was the first time anyone had ever hinted to me that my mother had killed. I had always thought it was Roth who had done the dirty work, or the other people that worked with them. I’d let myself be blinded to the idea that either of my parents could have done the things I’ve done. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“Richard hated himself for what it had all done to her. Sam will have your eyes, some day. Prepare yourself for that or let her go.” She stops in front of a door and knocks, while I hunch my shoulders, brows furrowing.

My mother had never looked at me with dead eyes. They’d always lit up at the sight of me. Even my father hadn’t looked like I do when I stare into the mirror.

Or was that simply because I gave them a reason to be normal again? Do my eyes light up when I look at Sam? Or had they simply not been through the sorts of things that I have? I don’t know, and the mercenary doesn’t seem like she wants to give me any more answers today. Before we enter, I grab her arm. “Sam comes with me through her own choice. Whatever happens won’t change things between us.”

Sam has a her own strength, and I don’t think that Soraya _gets_ it. Sam can keep up with me. I know she can, and I know she will. It’s not like she wouldn’t chase me around the world if I left her.

“You’re devoted to her. That doesn’t change that she’s a risk. There’s a flow to combat. Each pulse of your heart surges into the next, each step you take beats in time to the rush of blood in your veins. Your parents were in step with each other. Like extensions of each other’s body and mind. It was like a dance. A deadly one. Can you imagine her moving in step with you?”

I don’t have an answer quickly enough. She just gives me this look and smirks, before pushing through the door. I follow her. It’s a bit cooler inside than it is outside thanks to several fans spinning slowly overhead but it does nothing to calm me down. I want to punch her. There’s a local man sitting at a table with playing cards, with a small wirey dog sitting in the chair opposite him. I stare for a moment, wondering if he could possibly be playing cards with the dog, but it looks like it’s actually solitaire. He just has an audience. It’s still one of the stranger sights I’ve seen and I take a mental picture to share with Sam.

“Gyasi!” She holds out her arms and the man stood. He only comes up to Soraya’s chest, which makes him shorter than me, but they embrace anyway, like old friends. It’s hard to see her making friends with anyone. Even though she gets along with people I always get the impression she is the solitary sort.

Gyasi is about as wirey as his dog, but he has a handsome smile. “Miss Touma, what brings you my city?”

“Cairo is a lot of peoples’ city, Gyasi.” She let go of him and gestures in my direction. “This is my friend. _Lara Croft_.”

The man pulls a pair of spectacles out of his jacket and put them on. He is balding, what little hair he has as grey as ash, and his skin is like weathered leather and nearly as dark. He squints at me through the glasses. “Croft? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“I take it you knew my father too?” Am I following in his footsteps again? The thought grates on me and brings back those old feelings of being stuck beneath his shadow. I’m still trying to absorb everything that Soraya just told me.

“Mostly through his papers, though I met him once or twice.” He ruffles the fur of the dog and gestures. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Just water,” I say, moving along with him. “You’re familiar with his work then?” So that’s why Soraya has taken me here. This is our lead, and that will make our next steps a lot easier if we can narrow down where to go next. I have to beat Shaw. It’s become personal.

“Oh yes. It’s all fascinating. And until the rumors that abounded from your little stunt in Japan, everyone thought that his work was embellished fiction.”

Little stunt? Little _stunt_?! I control my breathing and say tightly, “Including myself, but I can assure you I’ve seen far too much to dismiss anything entirely.” My hands have clenched into fists.

There were a dozen stories that came out of Yamatai, each one more ridiculous than the last. It had sparked a media frenzy and a renewed interest in what a lot of people call junk science. Some of America’s networks were making a killing on all of it. It’s one reason I agreed to write that book. I needed to tell my side of the story before the myth overtook the reality. A _stunt_. The _word_ offends me.

The man gives me a look and smiles, before handing me a glass of water. “You can control your temper, that’s good. I mean no disrespect, but you must know how some people view what you’ve accomplished. Two lost kingdoms if you count the coordinates your friend found. And a lot of blood spilled in the process.”

“I know.” I sip the water, forcing myself to cool down. “To say nothing of the supernatural nature of these places.”

“You have people claiming aliens and hoaxes, and calling you everything from gifted to a media whore,” Soraya interjected. She’s right. Sam usually does all the filtering on my facebook page and I avoid internet forums for my own blood pressure. I’ve received everything from marriage proposals to rape and death threats. I’m always more scared for Sam than for myself, but she’s used to this kind of thing. For me it’s just a little overwhelming.

I don’t like the turn of this conversation. “This is all true, but can we focus on why we’re here?” I pull some documents out and carefully unfold them. “I found these in Shaw’s research lab. He has three sites in or near the Sphinx circled. I don’t know if they’re dig sites or clues, but I’m hoping you can help me somehow. Either narrow what I’m looking for, or help me get close enough to these sites to get a look at them.” I may have majored in Japanese archaeology but I’m a Croft. Languages and symbols are in my blood. I can puzzle it all out eventually but I’m not too proud to look for help.

Gyasi leans over the documents, studying them with a trained eye. “I don’t think they’re dig sites. There’s nothing here that’s been officially approved. Shaw is doing this illegally. That sounds just like him.”

“Shit, it will take weeks to get any sort of approval or permits.” I knock back half of my glass and think. Three sites. There’s Soraya, Sam and myself. If we’re each quick, we can take pictures and then study them from safety. I look at the mercenary and she seems to have the same idea.

“And you don’t have weeks. Well then, good for you that I know some people. If you’re able to move tonight, no one will notice a thing.” He grinned at me.

I look at him. “Okay. What do I owe you?”

He rubbed his hands together and rolled his shoulders. “I want.. I want to go _with you_. On the next steps. I haven’t been in the field in years. I’m getting so old, and you’re seeing these things I’ve only read about. Things people like your father were laughed at for.”

I put out my hand. “You’re in. I’m not going to turn down expertise like yours.”

He grasps my hand between both of his. “Thank you, Miss Croft. Thank you.”

We stay a little longer to chat, and I discover that Gyasi had once worked on one of my father’s digs. It had started a love affair with Egyptology and he’d eventually started working at the Museum of Cairo, where he catalogs all the relics that go in and and out of the country on tours. He sees a lot of strange things, and has handled artifacts that always felt a little off to him. 

I make him promise to make me a list of these ‘off’ items, and then leave with Soraya. We head back to the hotel. “So how do you know him?”

“Long story short, he’s an in-law. His sister and my brother met when we were visiting the museum.”

Well, that explains how she knew to come to him. It also makes me more willing to trust him. “So he’s trust worthy?”

“I think so. His sister never talks bad about him, and he’s got enough access at the museum to either have bribed a lot of people, or have genuine merit. I don’t know if he can keep up, though”

“The way he talks, he’s got talent and passion both,” I tell her, smiling. He’ll keep up because his passion won’t let him falter. “I don’t mind encouraging that at all.”

Soraya heads upstairs and I find Sam at the pool. My mind flashes back to the conversation with Soraya, and I try to catch a look at Sam’s eyes without her noticing. When she spots me, they soften but they hadn’t been the kind of hardness I see in the mirror. It’s a different sort. Determination. But they light up all the same and I have to keep my hands to myself when she hugs me. 

“We’ve got a lead, I hope you don’t have plans tonight because I need your help.”

She steps back and grins at me. “What do you need me to do, sweetie?”

I look at her, then at my watch. “Why don’t you get dressed then I’ll take you out to dinner. Just the two of us. I’ll explain then.”

“Do we have time for a little privacy?” She smiles at me and it’s oddly shy. It’s also utterly endearing.

“As long as we’re where I want to be before one in the morning then I think we can make the time.” Sam and I have our own dance, and it’s one I prefer. Love over hatred. Gentle touches instead of killing blows.

She acts like she’s trying to resist the urge to kiss me, and grabs my hand instead. “Promises, promises.”


	24. Show Me

We get to have dinner like Lara promised, and even a little fooling around before she got too antsy for it to be really fun any more. I can’t really blame her, I’m excited too! I get to be all sneaky mcsneak person. Lara’s plan is pretty simple. The three of us each pick a spot and take pictures and video of whatever we find. Then she’ll study them and see if there’s any clues. I’m less skeptical than Soraya is. I know what Lara is capable of. The woman loves to research. She would have starved to death in the library if it weren’t for me.

I find some kind of writing when I get to my circle on the map and I get a good shot of every symbol. Then I hunt around a bit. I don’t find anything obvious but if it even looks funny I point my camera at it. I just want to do this right. Lara was impressed with the shots I’ve taken in the past, but this is different. She’s counting on me. I want to knock her socks off. Not that I haven’t but these are a whole new pair of… socks. I make a note to come up with a better metaphor than socks.

I’m just about finished when I hear voices. I peer around part of the paw. Footsteps. Men’s voices. They’re not speaking English and it’s not a language I’m familiar with though I heard it a lot around us when we were at dinner. I don’t know if it’s Sphinx security or some people Shaw hired, but either way I can’t get caught here. I start to climb up the ancient stone monument, and lay myself flat out as they pass beneath me. Holding my breath, I pray to whoever’ll listen to let them keep walking.

Apparently the gods were listening as the men disappear into the night. I wait a few more minutes, then scramble back down and creep through the desert to get to our meeting point. Gyasi is already waiting for us and I chew my lip out of worry as we wait for Lara. She’s a few minutes late, but she’s smiling. I throw my arms around her. “I got some good video, did you see anything useful?”

“Yes. And if you two confirm my theory I know what we need. The hard part will be _finding_ it.”

“Then let us get to work,” the man next to us said. I glance at him and grin. It looks like years have shaved off of him, just from the excitement on his face.

The weirdest thing is when we put the cameras next to each other, it looks almost like a map. I can’t make heads or tails out of it but Lara and Gyasi start to geek out and I get lost about two sentences in. Something about a missing city, one of the original capitals of ancient Egypt. So I just film their geekery and smile to myself because this’ll look great on Youtube. Once a plan is made we return to our hotel room to pack and get ready for the trip.

I’m excited at first but after seven hours of travel I realize I hate the desert. I fucking hate the desert. There’s sand everywhere. It’s not even a lie. I don’t know how the truck we’re in doesn’t just choke on all the sand. That’s probably a good thing because otherwise we’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere. The only way that I can tell what direction we’re going is by the compass that Lara handed me. Otherwise we’d be lost. 

I really hope she doesn’t want me to be the navigator. Is she crazy? I think she’s crazy. And it’s hot. It’s really fucking hot. My clothes are sticking to me in the most disgusting manner possible. I thought the jungle was bad. This is worse. At least I look fashionable. I’d gotten the two of us some pretty head scarfs to protect our scalps and foreheads from the sun. Before we’d left I’d soaked them but they dried out pretty quickly.

The AC can barely keep up. It’s like we’re driving in a death trap. Lara should have let me rent a better vehicle but she insisted the heat would abate since we’re into October now. Like there’s somehow a difference between melt your skin hot and oh my god just kill me now hot. Maybe we should have waited another month for temperatures to reach tolerable but then it would have been _really_ too cold to sun on the ship. Although seeing Lara in that suit had been worth a little diamond nipple.

“Sam, which way is Southeast?”

Lara’s voice brings me out of my inner whining and I check the compass. “That way.” I could whine out loud, but Soraya is in the back seat and I don’t want her to think less of me. I don’t need her to think I’m a whiner. Well, I kind of am but I won’t let anyone but Lara know. I like Soraya, I don’t want to lose her respect. 

“We’re going to need to leave the road soon,” Gyasi murmurs. “It will be bumpy.”

“We’ll be fine. It’ll just mean slower going.” I glance at Lara as she talks, and I wonder if she actually knows where we’re going. She has this uncanny sense of direction, especially in places where most people would be hopelessly lost.

“So what are we looking for, exactly? I think I got the general idea but you two got so excited that I got lost.” I turn around in my seat so I can look at both of them at the same time.

Lara looks at me, then in the mirror at Gyasi. “It’s a lost city called Thinis.”

Something has been bothering me, so I ask, “And what, the map was just sitting out there in the open and no one figured this out until now?”

I hear Soraya make a sound behind me. It doesn’t sound negative. I think she’s kind of backing me up in my statement. I glance back at her and she smiles at me. 

“Some things can be hidden in plain sight,” the Egyptian says, and Lara nods in agreement. He put his hand on my arm. “If no one is looking for it, how will they see it? Without knowing to even look there, your friend would still be searching for the map, let alone the answers you both seek.”

“Okay,” I say, patting his hand. “What’s so special about Thinis anyway?”

"Thinis," Lara says. "Was one of Egypt's capitals during the first two dynasties. This was during the period just after Egypt was unified. They were split before into two kingdoms, with Lower Egypt encompassing much of the Nile delta. Thinis was the seat of the first Pharaoh, and remained the seat of power for three hundred years until the capital was moved to Memphis and the Old Kingdom period began."

Gyasi picks up where she left off. "Thinis became very obscure after that, save for the military importance of it's location. It was still important religiously, and plays a role as a place in heaven."

"It's this religious context that makes it important to us as well. Rituals reference it," Lara continues. My head keeps snapping back and forth. It's like archaeological tennis. "Being a place of power. We saw first hand what the Sun Queen's temple was like, and I suspect the other locations we visited had religious significance to the peoples of the area."

“Shaw obviously thinks there’s something there.” Hey, I can contribute too! “What do you think it is? Another skull? Something more like that knife?”

“Kris,” Lara corrects me absently. “I have a few theories about that. I don’t think this one is a skull, or even crystal. It’s probably some sort of limestone, or it could even be a precious metal. Gold or silver. But it’s something that they would have considered durable and ever lasting. In one of the records I took from Shaw there was mention of something seen in the sky. It could narrow down the time period of the artifact, at least! The ancients recorded all sorts of things that most people never think about. What was attributed to a god or act of the divine is often something as simple as a celestial event.”

Lara can go on forever if she isn’t stopped, and while I love to listen to her, she really will keep going. Like the energizer bunny. The only time I _really_ want her energizer bunny is when we’re alone. I snap my fingers. “Okay so how much longer do you think we’ll traveling?”

“Another day at least.” Gyasi leaned forward, and pointed out the window. “It will be dark soon. We can rest, or try to drive through the night.”

“I can take over for you, sweetie.” I put my hand on Lara’s arm and she gives me this _look_.I know it means ‘I love you but there’s no way in hell you’re driving’ which doesn’t speak much for her confidence in my driving abilities. I’m not that bad. Just a little excitable. I like straight lines.

“No, I think we should rest. I want to be able to look at these ruins with fresh eyes.” She doesn’t even acknowledge my offer. I roll my eyes and fold my arms.

“Like we’re even going to be able to sleep like this.” Now my whining is vocalized and I wince at the sound of my own voice. But Lara just laughs.

I’m glaring at her when Gyasi explains. “Night will be a lot cooler. It could drop as low as sixteen tonight.”

Living in London for as long as I have, I didn’t have to do any mental contortions. I just breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thank god. Can we try to get up earlier tomorrow? Maybe it’ll still be cool when we’re searching for artifacts. “

“That’s a good idea.” Lara rubs my knee. “Keep an eye out for a good place to pull up for the night. I’ll take first watch.”

“Lara, you’ve been driving _all day_. Let me do it. Please?”

She shakes her head. “If I take first watch that means you don’t have to wake me, and I can sleep straight through. My head will be clearer in the morning.”

Well that makes sense. “Okay, I see how it is, you just want me to be the groggy one.”

She gives me this absolutely cheeky little smile. “Well, you _are_ used to it.”

If she hadn’t been driving I would have thrown something at her. But I didn’t want to strand us out here, so I don’t. Instead, I find us a place to park, and get out to stretch my legs. With the sun setting it feels a little better but the breeze is warm and saps the moisture right out of my skin. I promptly crawl back into the slightly cooler vehicle.

We eventually settle on Lara taking first watch and Soraya taking last. I think the idea is that since they’re sort of our protection detail, giving them the most uninterrupted sleep is probably a good idea. And I think Soraya is looking forward to that early morning watch. She seemed pretty insistent on the idea.

Gyasi was right, though. By the time Lara wakes me for my watch, it’s cool enough to need a jacket. I hadn’t brought one, so I settle on stealing one of Lara’s shirts. Because of course she has long sleeved shirts for a hike through the desert. That woman’s brain. So sexy. I hadn’t even thought of that. Just shorts and a tank top. 

Nothing happens for the first forty-five minutes. I hear Lara’s breathing slow and I’m glad for it. I want her to get some rest. Then there’s a lot more nothing for the next couple of hours. Oh, there are things that spook me. Desert creatures moving in the night and for about twenty minutes at one point I had to sit perfectly still as a snake took it’s time slithering past me.

It’s nearly time to wake Gyasi up when I feel rather than sense people approaching. I shout the alarm, and just like that Lara is awake. I duck for cover as one of the attackers opens fire at me. Lara draws and shoots her bow so quickly that I don’t even see the movement in the darkness, just the sound of the arrow thunking into a man’s neck.

There’s so much going on all around us. I don’t want to shoot my own guns because I don’t want to hit Lara or Gyasi. It’s too dark and all the chaos just makes me wish I could slow it down, or at least illuminate things better.

Lara is like a devil, and the only thing I can think to do is grab Gyasi and pull him out of the line of fire. But she’s overwhelmed, there’s just too many of them. At least two dozen and she’s only cut down a handful. She’ll fight tooth and nail until she’s dead and she’ll take as many of them with her as she can.

I can’t even see Soraya at first. I hear the retort of a gun and spy her trying to lead some of them away. Brave, probably stupid. She doesn’t strike me as stupid, so I hope she has a plan. I’m starting to feel useless. I want to scream and curl up and give up and hide until Lara and Soraya have saved us. I’m a coward.

 _Fight. Do not be weak, do not relent. What use is a Queen who abandons her consort?_ I feel the energy coursing through me with thick jolts. The sky darkens overhead, the stars obscured by angry clouds. They roll and they twist and they spin with unearthly light. Lightning crackles above us and I feel it inside me as surely as I feel the pulse in my veins. I have to do something. I _can_ do something! I’ll trade anything to protect my Lara, I’m desperate. I need it, I need.... Show me. I find my voice and scream,“ _Show me!_ ”

The wind kicks up, faster and faster until it’s howling around us. Dust and sand whip through the air like tiny razorblades. Lara shouts my name. I see the lines in the air, stretching up to the heavens. My fingers trace the path I need the lightning to take and I call down the thunder.


	25. Blood on the Sand

Sam shouts the alarm just in time. I’ve barely a moment to orient myself as I jerk awake, but someone tries to hit me. He’s dead in an instant, my axe gutting him. I move, dodging another attacker. The Kris is in my left hand and I don’t remember ever drawing it, but it saves my life when I block a machete. That man’s blood joins his friend’s in the sand, but I’m already losing count of our attackers. They swarm over our camp. How many of them _are_ there? I fight back panic as I try to find Sam in all the chaos. She has Gyasi, which is good. I don’t see Soraya, but I don’t worry about her that much. She can handle herself.

I nearly go down when something sharp cuts through my leg but I use the pain to fuel me and drive the Kris right into the man’s eye-socket. Time slows down around me as I twist around. My axe finds a skull then a stomach, while the dagger carves a huge gouge into a third’s chest. I slash and jab, aiming for vitals and where I can do the most damage to bring my targets down.

I try to find Sam again. I see her, and the sight is _terrifying_. There are patterns in her arms and forehead that glow a blue-white, and her eyes are the same color. The wind picks up, gusting around us like a whirlwind. It’s like being in a sandblaster and I lift my arms to shield my face and eyes. “Sam! Sam, stop this!”

The sky above us is violent and uncontrolled. It looks like Yamatai but somehow worse. No, it’s definitely worse because I can feel Sam losing herself to it. It rips at my heart and shreds my soul. I stop seeing the men closing on me as my vision narrows until there’s only the terrible sight of Sam glowing. Sam becoming Himiko. I can’t lose her but there’s nothing I can do. It’s my fault. My fault for not saying something sooner. I’ve had suspicions but I hadn’t wanted to see it. It’s my fault for trying to pretend that everything was okay after that storm. When had all this started? It didn’t matter right now. I can feel despair grasping at me. Is there time to spare her any pain, or is there a way to bring her back. I’m frozen in my indecision, an arrow in my hand.

There’s a sudden flash of light and sound and heat. I’m blown backwards, landing in a heap several meters away. There are spots in my eyes and my ears are ringing, but I’m alive. When my vision clears Sam is kneeling over me. Her voice is echoey. Like we’re underwater. But her eyes… Her eyes are _her own_. I want to throw my arms around her and never let go, but I don’t have time for that. She helps me to my feet and I take stock of the aftermath.

It’s over. The storm has died down, and our attackers are scattered or dead. I must have taken out nine, by my count. Soraya is approaching us cautiously, the blood on her face gleaming in the moonlight. Where the other attackers had stood there is nothing left but charred remains. I fold Sam against me. I can feel her shaking. She knows what she’s done, and she knows what the price could be. I stare into her eyes again, just to reassure myself that she’s in there. “You _scared_ me, Sam!”

“Scared the shit out of myself too. It was so… _easy._ Once I thought about it, once I could _see_ the paths the lightning could take. I just had to...tell it to _go_.” She talks so easily, but her voice is shaking. She’s as disturbed as the rest of us. Well. As disturbed as Soraya and I. Gyasi just looks fascinated.

“Is she _in_ there, Sam?” I cup her face, ignoring Gyasi and Soraya and just putting the entirety of my focus on Sam. I think she wants to lie, but the look in her eyes is a dead give away. I stroke her cheeks gently. 

She sighs and says, “Yes… kind of. There’s a piece of her.” She taps her chest and I place my hand there. Enough time must have passed during the ritual for a piece of Himiko’s soul to lodge itself inside of my best friend. That there might be some of that _power_ , too, hadn’t entered my thoughts until Shaw. Sam is a vessel. The power and the soul had been passed down to her. No, she is still Sam. Sam where it counts, deep inside.

“You’re still _you_.” I say it like I have to believe it.. I have to. I can’t afford to not believe it. “You’ve just had some power poured into you. And we’re going to find a way to get it out. I’m so sorry. I should have done something...”

She says nothing after that, and I don’t press. Instead I take a seat on the hood of the truck and inspect my injuries. The slash on my leg, a bullet graze on my shoulder. I start to clean the one on my leg, hissing as the antiseptic burns. Some more scars for Sam to map. My stomach twists itself into a knot and I look up to watch her. She seems confident. Maybe she thinks she can control this.

She’s strong, I trust her to be strong but this is something that has haunted us for nearly three years now. Something that’s been taking root inside her. I can only think that the killing has awakened the power inside her. First Victor, then that man on the beach. And now a dozen in one strike. One death is enough to change a person forever, but this is something else entirely.

It takes us an hour before we’re ready to move on. I sew up my leg and then inspect Sam for any injuries. But there’s no point in staying here and we’re all too wired for sleep. I have to find Thinis. There might be answers there. Answers to the riddle of these artifacts. To help Sam, to stop Shaw in whatever he has planned for these things. It’s no longer just about academic research or the pursuit of knowledge and it hasn’t really been that for a long time now. I have to face facts.

Soraya approaches me, disturbing my thoughts. She’s cleaned herself up and changed her shirt. I nod at her, then turn my attention back to Sam.

“Is that what you faced on Yamatai?” Her voice is close to my ear, so I keep my own voice low.

“Sort of. Himiko never showed that level of control, but she had also been completely off her rocker. She was able to take down an airplane with a pinpoint strike.” So calling down lightning into a group of men and not killing me at the same time wasn’t much different. “But she was just...she was _mad_. She’d spent thousands of years locked in the body of a corpse. Could you imagine?”

I feel Soraya’s hand on my shoulder. Her voice is low. Concerned. The same concern I feel in my heart. “That kind of power can burn someone up from the inside, before they even know it. And I don’t mean their bodies.”

“It won’t happen with Sam.” I don’t look at her. I don’t want to see the expression on her face. It’s like she’s already cast judgement. But I don’t give up. I refuse to give up. I’ll never give up on Sam, not as long as she lives and breathes, and she won’t give up on me. “She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”

Still, we spend the next hour driving in silence. Soraya is at the wheel, and Gyasi is up front with her which I’m glad for. I hold onto Sam’s hand, afraid she’ll be ripped from me. I can’t forget how I’d felt when I’d seen her glowing. She leans into me until her head is resting on my shoulder, so I put my arm around her and squeeze her lightly. No words pass between us, and none need to. Not right now. I find myself drawing as much strength from her as she does from me, and by the time we’ve reached Thinis I feel like I can handle anything the ruins throw at us.

Our destination is a featureless landscape of sand and rock, and with the exception of Gyasi our little party looks confused and lost. I push aside my emotional turmoil to focus on the task at hand, and let the excitement of discovery take over. The man grins at me and I grin back. I can see the city laid out in my mind. The stones aren’t positioned naturally. “This is it, it has to be.”

The sun is beginning to rise, casting the land in bright oranges and yellows as I consult the information we’d gathered from the Sphinx. The map hadn’t been just to Thinis, but to whatever treasure lay hidden beneath the sand. As Sam will probably tell it, Gyasi and I spend a good hour geeking out while we studiously map out what we think are the city boundries. One of the major dieties here is the lion-goddes Mehit. She popped up frequently in Shaw’s notes. I’d lay money on her being important somehow. 

If there’s a tomb or temple, I’ll find it. If there are traps, I’ll get us through them. I look at Sam, and she looks at me. Can she feel it? That thrum in the air?

My shovel hits something, and I push away the sand. Onyx eyes stare at me. A lion’s head on a woman’s body. Nearby is another one, and before too long we managed to dig out an opening. The doors are shut, seemingly sealed, but there’s probably a latch or a key or something. 

It’s Gyasi that finds it, and as the doors slide open, we inhale air that the living haven’t breathed in nearly five thousand years. I’m sure Sam gets a great shot of me descending into the tomb, before she and the others follow me. I like this. Me doing what I love and Sam doing her thing, like we’re a team. Soraya and Gyasi don’t even feel out of place.

It’s a simple hallway, at first. There are paintings on either side of us, so clear that they look like they were done just yesterday. There are pillars as well, evenly spaced on either side. “Get footage of that, will you? We can do a voice over later, but it’s so beautiful.”

“It looks fresh.” Soraya starts to lift her fingers to the wall but Gyasi grabs her wrist.

“Don’t. The oils in your skin will ruin them. We will observe, and record, and when we have found the artifact here, then we will bring in teams to properly restore the site.”

I grin at Gyasi. We can take the dangerous object out and then let the proper authorities preserve this place. There’s so much we can learn here about one of the earliest time periods of Egyptian civilization.

“How do we know there’s even something here?” Soraya asks, folding her arms. Surely she spent enough time with my father to know not to touch.

“Can’t you feel it?” Sam brushes past her and slowly pans the camera along the west wall. “There’s a charge in the air. It’s tugging at me.”

I can feel something, true. Like how the first skull seemed to summon us forward. This time, it’s not affecting me so much as the Kris at my hip. I wonder if they somehow know each other, or just recognize the magic involved. I hate magic. Worse than tombs.

Soraya lets out a brief, resigned sigh. “Yes. I feel it.”

I jog forward to the end of the hall and look up at a gigantic statue of Mehit. I pull on some gloves and press my hands to it. I don’t think it’s stone, but it’s brightly painted, and cool to the touch. It feels like metal. Bronze.

We’ve found a dead end. I don’t believe that this is all there is to see here. That draw is stronger now, and it’s moved from the dagger to the back of my head. Like the buzzing of gnats inside my skull. There’s probably a lever somewhere. “There’s got to be a secret door, or a lever. Maybe the paintings can tell us how to find it.”

An hour passes, then two. Gyasi and I scribble notes in our journals, and sketch the pictures and hieroglyphics while Sam records it all. There’s some kind of code here, it’s plain as day, but decoding it is proving not to be fruitful. It could take someone a lifetime to really study this, but we don’t have that luxury. I doubt we have more than a few days before Shaw’s men find us. We have to get that artifact and bring in Gyasi’s people before that happens. I shudder to think about what Shaw do to these ruins either trying to find what we take, or just out of spite.

I’m staring at the statue again when it hits me. I backtrack to the front of the temple and take in the entire scene. I let my eyes unfocus, and that’s when I see it. A little gap just above Mehit’s head. I run back to the statue and look around the base. It’s sunken in, just a little.

“The statue! It sinks into the ground, look here.” I trace the base with my foot. “It’s shifted over time. It’s a shortcut, but I’ll happily take it.”

Sam’s at my side quickly. Her arms wrap around me and I can feel her feeding on my excitement. “Great! How do we get it going the rest of the way?”

“We need to find the lever,” I tell her. Except nothing even remotely looks like a lever, and none of the paintings seems to help. Sam taps her finger against her lip, then starts pressing her hand against various parts of the wall next to the statue. “What are you looking for?”

“In Peru, when I got the second skull. Remember?”

I remember. She’d told me about the puzzle she’d solved with the buttons. I move to the other side and start searching for loose stones or something else that could be pressed. We find what we’re looking for at the same time.

Stone scrapes as the statue shifts forward a foot and then starts to slide into the ground. I look at Sam over the head as it disappears and grin at her. “That’s brilliant!”

“Wonder twins powers, activate!”

Soraya snorts, and peered down into the new chamber. “If you two are twins you’ve got some serious problems.”

“ _Wonder_ twins,” Sam clarifies. I just laugh, feeling my cheeks redden.

“Moving on.” I kneel in front of the gap, trying to get an idea of what might be beyond the threshhold. I am pleased at the banter, and more than anything else that sets my mind at ease about the events last night. Sam is still Sam. I fear that might become a mantra. _Sam is still Sam_.

“All of you need to stay back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.” I drop down the three feet and step into an antechamber. It’s small but lavishly decorated and painted, and half as long as the main entrance hallway. After ensuring the chamber is safe, I let the others into it. “You should have time to get some really good footage here.”

“Yeah, but just in case?” She hands me another camera and smiles cheekily. I give her a look, pretending don’t understand what she’s talking about.

The antechamber slopes steeply at the end, but I’m moving slowly and avoid a nasty tumble into some waiting spikes. I’ve developed a second sense when it comes to these kinds of traps. Costa Rica and Yamatai killed any joy I might ever get from slides. I carefully go around the spikes and creep into the main chamber itself.

It’s immediately apparent that someone is entombed in here. Not that unusual in Egypt but it is pretty unusual considering that this is a temple. Most burials were nearby, not in the temples themselves. But it could be that all that information is wrong, at least about Thinis. I want to spend hours in here, studying every last centimeter, but we need to get what we came for. 

The ceiling is six meters overhead, and glitters like the night sky. At the center is a sarcophagus, gold and silver, painted brightly and inlaid with gems. I still don’t know how the paint survived all this time and I’m all the more eager to get Gyasi’s people in to protect this place. But first I need that artifact. 

I glance back the way I’d come. I really should wait for them. But there’s no telling what’ll happen when I open that lid and retrieve what I know is inside. I can feel it in my bones. Whoever is in here was important enough to be buried in the temple itself. I move the camera, trying to catch every painting, every ancient word, and as I do, my mind puts the story together. Mehit was a goddess associated with Onurus, who was later known as Horus. It’s more complicated than all that but I only remember part of the myth. Something to research later. I pan the camera back to the center. The paintings tell the story of how Onurus tamed the lioness, then brought her back to Egypt where she became his consort. Thinis was considered their chief place of worship.

I approach the sarcophagus warily. According to the inscriptions Mehit herself is interred there. It’s not as impossible as I’d like to think, either. I see other symbols, and more of the story fills in. Narmer the first pharaoh of the First Dynasty, and his beautiful wife from the south. A tamed lioness.

It takes me less than a minute to get it open. Inside is a perfectly preserved body. Dried due to time and the desert, but about as well preserved as one can get. This temple predates the first deliberate mummification rituals by several centuries, at least, but she’s still beautiful. Her skin is very dark and great pains were taken with her face and nail paint. There’s even evidence of body paint underneath elegant robes. I half expect her eyes to open.

She’s clutching a statue of Mehit over her breast. It seems to glitter, and it’s darker than iron. I’ve seen metal like this before, but it’s usually in jewellry pieces, not a small statuette. Meteor iron. Many cultures have used it and it’s generally considered sacred. I press a finger against the side of the statuette and I can feel static crackle in the air. It thrum and beats almost like a pulse. It’s the same feeling I get from the skulls we have, safely locked away back home.

I gently try to dislodge it from her grip, but she doesn’t seem to want to let go. I can’t blame her. If I believed the story her tomb tells, then she is basically holding herself. The thought makes me let go and I look between her peaceful face, and then the statue. My hand falls to the Kris.

“Oh my _god_. She’s really holding _herself_.” This is the first Queen of Egypt, the consort to the first pharaoh. The man and woman who became the basis for the myth of this city’s chief god and goddess. I look at some of the hieroglyphics again with fresh eyes. Instead of immortality through human vessels, they’d sought it through objects.

I take the camera Sam gave me to record some more symbols. I’ll need to to study them later. They depict a woman holding the statuette, but it’s not Mehit. It’s someone else. Passing the power, like on Yamatai? I don’t know, not yet.

“I’m terribly sorry about this, but I’m a lot more polite than my so-called colleague will be.” I’m less gentle this time, but eventually she relinquishes her hold on the artifact. While the others were warm, this one is cold to the touch. It’s like holding a block of ice.

There’s no rumbling, no sudden threat or dangers. None of those corpse-like copies we’ve dealt with before. I only feel this sudden sense of _relief_. As though a long sleep were finally over. I look down at the statuette in my hands. “Three skulls. A statuette, the Kris. And Sam.” If my theory is correct, that means there are still four more skulls, and ten more artifacts of similar power. There’s more besides but the thought of trying to find over a hundred relics is daunting right now.

It pains me to think of Sam as an artifact, but she’s as much a part of this as I am. More so, even. I turn to make my way back to the others, where I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it for making them miss the good stuff. 

I give Sam back the camera after smiling sheepishly at her, and we force the big statue back into it’s original position. Once outside, Gyasi and I work to get the doors closed while Soraya makes a phone call. We’re going to be long gone before the Egyptian teams arrive.

As we drive away, the desert wind picks up and sand starts to bury the temple once again. I just pull Sam’s head against my shoulder. Sam takes my hand, and I squeeze it in return. 

“Lara?”

“Yes, Sam?”

Her lips feather against my neck. “Do you trust me?”

I swallow a lump in my throat, and squeeze her hand again. “Yes. With my life.”


	26. Epilogue

Our sleep schedule has gotten really messed up. If Lara isn't up at all hours trying to research into our artifacts, I can't sleep because of the nightmares. And it's not just Victor or Scotland. Or even Egypt. It's like it all comes back to fucking Yamatai and Himiko. I know that Lara is worried, and if I’m truthful, so am I. I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to wake up one morning unable to control my own actions.

So we decide to keep living. I don't think we ever actually _talked_ about it. We just did it. We're going to have the normal things and we're not going to let anything stop the plans we have for our lives. Our dreams, both for ourselves and each other.

Tonight though, we can’t sleep for different reasons. I feel Lara get out of bed, and I grab her pillow. Hugging it against my chest I inhale her scent, but I can’t fall asleep again either. I’m too excited. Too nervous. Fucking _terrified_.

Lara’s sitting at her desk. She didn’t dress even though it’s cold and I can see the goose pimples on her skin while she leans over a journal. There’s a little bit of light shining in from outside, casting her in an otherworldly glow. She looks raw and beautiful like a wolf. Maybe she’s not a wolf. Maybe she’s a _tiger_. Definitely a kind of cat. Plus, she really hates wolves.

Silently, I slip out of bed and pad across the floor towards her. My fingers find the scars on her shoulders, new and old. I trace them and she shivers against my touch. It brings a smile to my lips. I love how she responds to me. Just that act is enough to chase away the ghosts in my head. I still can’t believe I’m tapping that. Lara Croft is my girlfriend. We’re going to get married. I love her so much, and that’s the thing I hold on to when the dreams are at their worst.

I slip into her lap and caress her cheek, before kissing her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiles as she searches my eyes, and our foreheads press together. “Excited for tomorrow?”

“Terrified. Tell me how we managed to talk my parents into letting us do it in London?” Or how my dad didn’t freak out when I told him I was with Lara? As in _with_ with. In fact, he hadn’t even blinked. It was like he already knew. Or maybe he’s never cared enough as long as I’m not being an ‘embarrassment’. I guess I could do worse than Lara.

I’m still mad at him for being …. him. But he’d promised he’d be there for our wedding, and they’ve already landed in London. He probably has some kind of business thing going but I’ll take any win I can get. I literally will not forgive him if he’s a no show.

“I pouted at you until you convinced them it was a good idea. Besides, this is your home as much as mine.”

“It’s only fair, since we’re letting them do all the work.” And it’s more like my mom insisted and my dad just went along with it. I haven’t even seen the dress I’m going to wear, but I know I’ll look good in it. I could walk down the aisle in sweatpants and she’d still stare at me. I’m scared, but I can’t wait. 

“We’re really doing this.” Her voice is shakey. She must be terrified, but she’s Lara Croft. She’ll face down gods and devils so I think she can face down a pastor and some vows. I still need to write mine, but I’m _not_ going to tell her that. “So what are you working on?”

I feel her fingers start to explore the marks on my arms. She started seeing them after Thinis. They show up sometimes, usually when the weather is poor. And the weather isn’t going to be poor tomorrow. I’m going to make it fucking sunny for my wedding. Unlike most brides this is something I can actually do. I shouldn’t. Lara keeps warning me that the more I tapped into that power the more likely it is that Himiko could wrestle control. But she’s not in my head. I can control this.

“Still trying to break more of my father’s code…”

I reach down and close the journal, ignoring her protest. “Wedding. We’re getting married. Then we’re going to have all kinds of honeymoon debauchery for _two whole weeks_. Then and _only_ then are we going to start crawling into ancient ruins.” I look at her sternly, and she raises her eyebrows, waiting me to finish. “You’re not leaving me. You’re not even going to think of leaving me. We’re a team Lara. You and me. We _rely_ on each other. I’m not going to be a stay at home wife. I’m going to chronicle your career and make _both_ our names famous.”

I’m still kind of worried about her taking off on me. I think she’ll like my honeymoon plan though. I made sure to take us some places that will have things we can enjoy together.

“Never,” she says, her lips finding the pulse on my throat and sending shivers throughout my body. “Never, Sam. I couldn’t leave you behind, even if I wanted to. I missed my chance to do that a long time ago and I’m glad for it. It would be a shit thing to do at this point.”

Our eyes meet again. She kisses me like she’s promising me something, and I try to promise that she won’t lose me. Not to Himiko, not to anything else. I shift on top of her until my legs are on either side of her. There are no words for how her skin feels against mine. Smooth in places and rough in others. Perfect and imperfect all at once. 

I gasp when she nips on a sensitive area, and she puts a finger over my lips. “Shh, Sam. We have guests, remember?”

“Oh my god you’re not going to worry about people overhearing us are you? This mansion is huge…” It would be nice if we moved into the main bedroom, but she still has issues with the idea of taking over her parent’s room. I keep hoping that once we’re married and officially the ladies of the manor she’ll change her mind.

Any further thoughts on the matter are derailed when she lifts me onto the desk. I grip the edge of the desk as Lara nipples her way down my chest bone. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

“You can sleep in the guest room after,” She suggests, her lips smiling against my stomach. We both know that’s not going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far, and for all the feedback and responses I've gotten. I appreciate every one. Lara and Sam are going to get a few weeks before they get drawn back into the world of artifacts and shadowy beings. After all, Himiko is patient. She’s already waited a thousand years, she can wait a little longer...
> 
> In the meantime, there's still Swear Jar and the AUs!


End file.
